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le Schillingscourt 


BY 

E. MARLITT. 


; SLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY EMILY R, STEIXBSTEL. 


'Copyright, 1871), by George MunrOo 


NEW YORK: 

: :ORGE MUNRO’S SONS, PUBLISHERS, 


17 TO 27 VAN DEWATER STREET, 


I tit ART OF 



BY MARY STUART SMITH. 

WITH HANDSOME LITHOGRAPHED COVJ 

P14ICE 10 CENTS. 


A thorouffWy practical book on housekeeping by an 
• lebrated housekeeper. Mrs. Smith is a capable and dist 
joa subjects connected with the kitchen and household. 


i ABLE OF CONTENTS: Beginning to Keep House— Orderi 
Economical Housekeeping— The Kitchen— Kitchen Utens 
The Care of Food— The Dining Room— Entertaining— Th' 
— The Dinner — Dessert— The Store Room — The Nurseri 
Stairways — Parlor, Sitting Room, Bed Rooms— The Garre 
Chamber ’’—Music Room— Studio —Library — The Lightir 
Care of Lampa— Furniture— Screens— Ornaments— Hon 
tions— Spring Cleaning— Carpets — Floors— Summer Chanr 
Heat and. Ventilation, etc. 


GOOD FORM: 

A BOOK OF EVERY DAY ETI( 

BY MRS. ARMSTRONG. 

Price 10 Cents. 

No one aspiring to the manners of a lady or gentlema 
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For aale by all newsdealers, or sent by mail, postpaid, 
)rico, 10 cents each, by the publishers. Address 

aEORGE MTTNRO’S SONS, Munro’s PubUsb 
*. O. Box 2781.) 17 to 27 Vandewater Str< 



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IF 

5i 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT 


CHAPTEE 1. 


“ SCHILLINGSCOURT was the name of that grand old honse 
near the Benedictine Church, but it always had been, and con- 
tinued to he, designated as the ‘‘Column House, notwith- 
standing modern times had adorned whole street-fronts with 
great and small “ columns, thus robbing the house of its dis- 
tinguishing peculiarity. 

It had been built by a Benedictine monk. In those days — 
before harboring strangers had become a municipal business — 
travelers found shelter within the hospitable gates of cloisters 
and knightly castles along their way. Some monastic orders 
erected especial accommodations upon their property for this 
purpose, and thus the Column House originated. 

It had been a very wealthy monastic society, and Brother 
Ambrosius, the architect and sculptor, had come from Italy, 
enraptured with the beautiful plans that were to become a 
monument to his genius as a lodgment suitable to the rank of 
the princely personages who were in the habit of knocking at 
the cloister gates when traveling through this part of the coun- 
try with family and retinue. 

This is how there happened to loom up beside the homely 
gable house occupied by the monks this most elegant fa 9 ade, 
wdth its broad-columned hall- way, that supported a second 
story, with great bow- windows and arched cornices and con- 
soles that were beautifully carved. The columns of the im- 
mense arched door in the vestibule also displayed marvelously 
executed designs in flowers and fruit artistically carved in the 
stone. ^ 

The first-floor, with its pillared corridors, extended the 
depth of three windows beyond the second story, thus forming 
a communication with the southern w^ll of the monastery 
proper, and forming a charming terrace pn either side of thf 
columned hall, inclosed by stone balustrades, from which 
number of doors led to the floor above.' 

The nineteenth century can guess but little of the experi- 





8 


' ' ■ /• : 

IN THE SCHILLTNGSCOUBT. 

ences of this foreigner on German ground during those de- 
pressed times. The monastery then stood upon a common;,, 
along the road-way of which only a few mud huts were scat- 
tered, whose inhabitants scarcely ventured to peer out of their 
Wooden window-shutters at night when they heard tramping 
of horses and imperious voices in the vicinity of the cloister. 

The red light of glaring torches rising above the high walls, 
the infernal noise of yelping and baying dogs, and swearing 
troopers, with their neighing, stamping steeds, seemed like a 
scene from Hades; but it was hushed as suddenly as an out- 
burst of hobgoblin frenzy, and the butters crept enviously back 
to their beds. They knew that delicious wines flowed night 
and day within those now dark walls for those fiine ladies and 
gentlemen. 

And behind those tapestry-draped windows flickered great 
wax candles in massive chandeliers, and high-born men and 
women, ^^sembarrassed of riding-habits and wraps, gathered 
about theVichly laden, long, oaken table, set with the abbot^s 
splendid silve'rwani^ and bumpers foamed and wit flowed. 
And away‘ into theftSmall hours the dice rattled; and the itiner- 
ant players, who had been lodged on straw upon the stone 
flags , of the monastery for the night, were permitted to come 
over and sing and play as long as fingers and throats held out. 

They came often, and from various directions, these high 
and titled gentlemen, to hold secret conclave under the mon- 
astic protection of the Column House, and many of the most 
important documents of the time were concocted and had their 
origin in the Benedictine Cloister. And the monks, by the 
way, lost nothing thereby. Without ever being present, they 
yet, by a species of fin e penetration, together with their shrewd 
combinative powers, were enabled to follow the movements of 
their guests, and judged the nature of these secret meetings; 
and this made them appear possessed of miraculous knowledge 
which played into their hands an influence incalculable. 

Later — at the end of the Beformation — the monks migrated. 
The Column House and the greater portion of wood, field, and 
meadow-land became the property of the Schillings, and the 
rest, the monastery inclusive, with its out-buildings, passed 
into the possession of cloth-weaver Wolfram. The Schillings 
took down the wall fronting the street and transferred it to 
the dividing line between their own and the Wolfram ground; 
for such a thing as neighborly intercourse was not to be thought 
of at that time. The clay huts disappeared; the busy spirit 
of the city burst its limiting walls, and new streets led into 
fields like grasping claws, and before the expiration of another 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 9 

century the Column House lay in the center of a fine, well- 
populated city quarter, like some rare lady-bug webbed in the 
net of an active spider. 

The gentlemen of Schilling had progressed with the spirit 
of the times. The old wall had been substituted by a hand- 
some iron fence, light and transparent as Brabantine lace-work; 
the large plain grass-plot it once inclosed was cut up into 
flower-beds, divided by paths strewn with colored sand. In 
front of the columned hall was an immense statue fountain, 
surrounded by a number of ornamental shade-trees. The 
cloth- weaving family adjoining were decidedly more con- 
servative; they neither tore down nor built up; they merely 
took care of things; and wherever a stone began to totter, it 
was mortared on again with most anxious solicitude; and thus, 
after nearly three hundred years, the Cloister estate,''^ as it 
was called, presented pretty much the same physiognomy given 
it by the monks. 

Dark with age, its heavy beams looking crooked and sunken, 
the gable house rose homely and grim as ever above the 
shabby inclosure, that was simply a mass of patch-work, and 
keeping it company was the frame of the great arched gate 
and the little portal alongMde of the main entrance, where 
once the weary traveler came to crave admittance: that rattled 
and creaked then, as it does now, when at six o’clock in the. 
evening the people came swarming from all sides to get milk 
at the Wolframs, as people used to in the old, old days in the 
cloth- weaver’s time — for the Wolframs had soon deserted the 
loom and turned their attention to farming, increasing their 
possessions slowly, as long as pasturage and land could be pur- 
chased. They scraped and saved, and they were all head- 
strong characters, successively. The men were not afraid of 
the plow; and the women, one after another, stood punctually 
at the milk-table to guard against the possibility of a penny 
being lost through careless or dishonest domestics. 

They did perfectly right, these W^olframs, as the course of 
time proved. Their wealth increased, and, consequently, 
their importance; they were, almost without exception, elect- 
ed to the city council; and at last, after another century, 
came the hour when the Lords of Schilling condescended 
to observe that they had a neighbor. A friendly inter- 
course then developed. To be sure, the high wall remained 
standing. A splendid grape-vine had crept over it from 
Schillingscourt, and mingled its tough fibers with a hardy, 
dark old ivy from the other side. But the spirit of a civilized 
era surmounted such barriers to sociability, and the Schillings 


10 


IK THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


no longer considered it beneath their dignity to hold an infant 
Wolfram over the baptismal font, and when the senator re- 
ceived an invitation to dine at Schillingscourt, it did not occur 
to him that he ought to feel particularly honored. Indeed, 
the mutations of the last century were pressing the changes 
perceptibly upon both races; while the once despised cloth- 
wearing plebeian surrounded himself with the patrician nimbus 
reflected from his full coffers and vast estates, the treasury of 
the Schillings became shockingly impoverished; they had lived 
in luxury, and entertained generously; and the last senior of 
the family, Baron Krafft von Schilling, was trembling upon 
the brink of ruin, when the relative, to whonl all his posses- 
sions were mortgaged, died. This was the salvation of the 
sinking race — the only son of Baron Schilling married the 
daughter of the deceased, and with it all their former wealth. 
This occurred in 1860. In this fortunate year a circumstance 
also happened in the Wolfram establishment that occasioned 
extraordinary rejoicing. For .several generations there had 
been but one representative Wolfram; and for fifty years no 
male heir had been born on the Cloister estate, and, in conse- 
quence, the last of the family — senator and mayor of the city 
— ^Franz W olf ram, had become a morose and taciturn husband, 
who seemed to nurse his disappointment and hold his wife ac- 
countable for it. 

Five daughters came seeking the light of day in the Cloister, 
all “ abominable tow-heads, like their mother, and all in- 
clined to fear and creep out of sight of the stern father, until 
their brief existence ended, and the blonde little curly heMs 
were permitted a peaceful rest upon the pillow for the dead. 

Mrs. Senator Wolfram attended to her duties in a shrink- 
ingly silent manner, like a conscious culprit before the scowl- 
ing master. Only at the unexpected sound of his footsteps did 
her pale face flush as if with fright; otherwise she was like 
some uncomplaining but active statue. 

And now, seven years after the death of heiTast .little daugh- 
ter, she rested once more under the great white canopy of the 
bed in the 4Dack room upstairs. Without, heavy Black clouds 
darkened the sky, but in the room one magic flash of hght 
illuminated the sad face of the sufferer — 

“ A son!^^ was the grand announcement. 

‘‘A Wolfram!’^ was the senator’s victorious exclamation. 
He cast' two gold pieces into the bath-tub, where the nurse 
held the little, brown-skinned, quivering heir, then going to 
the bed he bent over his wife, and for the first time in twenty 


IK THE SCHlLLIKGSCOtJRT. 11 

ypiirs kissed the liand of the womaR who had at last done her 
duty, and given him a son. 

And what a jubilee followed! The iDeople on the Cloister es- 
tate had never witnessed such a time before. The Wolframs 
were not a family to make a display of their vast wealth. On 
the contrary, they made it a point to keep their family treas- 
ures of household linen and silver hidden from sight. The 
knowledge of possession was sufficient for them. 

But on this day there was spread in the big room,^'’ for- 
merly the monk's refectory, all the splendor, denied to the 
public eyes, of the Wolfram estate. On the immense damask- 
covered table glittered the silver-ware that had been stowed 
away for centuries — plates, cups, saucers, slender goblets, 
bowls, great salt-cellars, and massive table-ware of every de- 
scription. Around the dark, carved, wooden walls were placed 
elegant many-armed silver candlesticks; all were of rare 
workmanship and beautiful design. In the adjoining room 
stood the christening-table. The Wolframs had never affected 
a fondness for flowers. Their window-sills displayed neither 
pot, plant nor vine; but to-day a superb orangery from the 
city florist's decorated the baptismal apartment, and the little 
candidate of honor was robed in the christening heirloom, a 
long dress of heavy, pale-green satin; on the little black 
crowned head was the old-fashioned cap belonging to the suit, 
trimmed with yellow mechlin lace and embroidered with seed 
pearls. 

In the meantime the old nurse sat upstairs and enlarged to 
the senator's wife upon the grand doings below; told how 
proudly, in satin and silks, the sponsors were arrayed — of the 
wines, whose savory spices penetrated the whole house, that 
were being consumed, while the senator's son lay like a little 
prince amid the fragrant blossoms around the baptismal table. 

A bitter, sad smile hovered about the sick woman's mouth — 
her girl babies had not worn that magnificent dress. It was 
intended by the Wolfram ancestor for the male descendants 
only. No flowers covered their christening- table; the silver 
treasures of the family remained in their leathern covers. But 
roses began to bloom on those pale cheeks — dark-red roses — 
and while down-stairs goblets were emptied to the prosperity 
and welfare of the so fervently longed-for perpetuator of the 
Wolframs, the white curtains around that bed upstairs parted, 
and five babes crept in. ' They were all with their mother, the 
five little girls, and she caressed and covered them with pas- 
sionate kisses day and night, this happy mother heart; and the 
j)hysicians stood around the whispering woman, until, with a 




12 m THE SCHILLING SCOURT; 

sweetly weary sigh, she turned her face away from them and 
went to sleep forever. 

Her departure left no remarkable vacancy. Baby had a 
nurse, and a few hours after her death the senator's sister, a 
beautiful, serious-faced woman, came down from her apart- 
ments on the top floor, and undertook the management of the 
widower’s household. 

She was a thorough Wolfram in character and appearance, 
that gave no indication of the forty-six years of her life. Only 
once had she experienced emotion enough to conquer the prin- 
ciples of her education, and the consequences were not the 
happiest. She was joint inheritor of the Wolfram possessions, 
and a very handsome girl. She had been petted at Schillings- 
court like an own daughter. ’Twas there she had made the 
acquaintance of Major Lucian of Konigsberg, and eventually 
married him, notwithstanding her brother’s admonitions and 
the warnings of her own heart; and in truth they were about 
as well adapted to each other as water and fire. She, with her 
traditionally positive Wolfram nature; he, the elegant, merry- 
souled officer. She had determined to make him submissive 
to her way of life, and he had escaped the circumscribing tram- 
mels wherever it was possible with disdaining ridicule. This 
naturally resulted in domestic conflicts; so one evening, with 
her five-year-old son, she left Konigsberg secretly and came 
hack to the Cloister estate to remain permanently. 

Little Fehx had buried his face in the folds of her traveling- 
cloak when she led him through the halls of her ancestral 
house: the stairs, leading into the forsaken silence of the U2)per 
floor, with their strangely carved banister and creaky, foot- 
worn steps; the deep arched door-way, in which perpetual 
shadows had gathered; the great lusterless window-panes set 
in their leaden holds, against which the bats fluttered at night, 
and through which the sunlight fell yellow and dull as oil upon 
the chinks in the floor of the front room— all this was as fright- 
ful to the child as the ‘‘ man-eater’s house in the forest.” 
And the senator remarked, with enviously hateful glances at 
the little finely built, handsome boy, in his blue velvet suit, so 
becoming to the glossy golden curls falling upon his shoulders, 
that his sister had brought a gayly plumed humming-bird into 
the ‘‘ hawk’s nest.” 

And an alien the little abducted fellow remained. The chill- 
ing atmosphere of his Cloister home could not drive the ideal 
pictures out of head and soul. He was a poetical, warm- 
hearted being like his father.^ The deserted man in Konigs- 
herg had made every endeavor to gain possession of his boy, 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


13 


but his claims were referred to the judiciary judgment of 
Senator W olf ram — ^the mother retained possession of the child, 
and Major Lucian disappeared from Konigsberg, and no one 
knew whither he had gone. 

Mrs. Lucian took up her abode in the gable room fronting 
the street, that she had occupied in her girlhood. She fitted 
body and soul between the plainly painted walls, in which 
were built deep closets, with great, brown-stained, swinging 
doors. She sat, as of yore, in the unyielding high-backed 
leather-covered chair in the window embrasure. She slept be- 
hind the heavy curtains, in the adjoining room, that had been 
woven by her grandmother’s own hands. But she never en- 
tered Schillingscourt again. She put away everything that 
could remind her of her deserted husband, and, fled recollec- 
tions like a murderous fiend; but little Felix soon became 
perfectly at home there; the only son of Baron Krafit von 
Schilling was about the same age, and they became playmates 
and companions, with the approval of Mrs. Lucian — with the 
condition that the child should in no manner he reminded of 
his father. Later, the lads attended the same college, and 
studied law together. Arnold von Schilling looked forward to 
a brilliant career as jurist. Felix Lucian was to follow closely 
in the footsteps of his uncle — first to hold some public office, 
then settle down on the Cloister estate; for, since the death 
of the last little blonde-haired daughter, the senator intended 
making Felix his heir, with the proviso that he renounce his 
father’s name and adopt that of Wolfram. 

Then came the changes of 1860, as already stated. Arnold 
von Schilling came home in response to the pleading of a father, 
who, in his declining health, hoped to restore the Schilhngs’s 
prosperity by wedding his son to the cousin, and mortgage- 
holder of the estate. But the tardy arrival of Guy Wolfram, 
with his delicate constitution, upset Felix Lucian’s prospects 
decidedly. 


CHAPTER II. 

The senator’s wife was buried in the family burying-ground 
one snowy April morning, and Felix Lucian came home long 
enough to pay the last respects to his aunt, and returned im- 
mediately after the funeral. 

But two months later, when the June air was laden with 
sweet fragrance, and the ground was white with falling bios-, 
soms, he came back for a few days’ recreation/’ as he had 
written to his mother^ ^ 


14 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOITRT. 


It seemed to liim, as lie entered the broad hall where the 
ceremonies over the dead had taken place, that he could still 
perceive the blue incense railing the ceiling, and that the place 
was permeated with the spicy odor from the box-tree garlands, 
in which the slender, fair-haired woman reposed so quietly. 
But it was only minute particles of dust reflected in the light 
upon the ceiling, and through the open doors came the appetiz- 
ing smell of fowls roasting in the kitchen ovejis. His mother 
stood by the milk-dresser counting eggs into the basket of a 
domestic, who, according to a weekly habit, carried freshly 
churned butter and eggs to favorite customers in the city. 
One moment only her eyes lighted with undisguised motherly 
pride, as the tall, fine-looking youth advanced toward her; but 
there were five eggs in each hand, so she carefully turned her 
face over her shoulder for him to kiss a cheek, and remarked, 
with anxious haste: “ Go upstairs, Felix, until I’m through. 

The arms he had flung impulsively around her fell at his 
side, and he hurried out of the room. In the family apart- 
ment, the Wolfram heir was crying lustily — this young person- 
age screamed shrill and hateful as a cat. Out in the barn- 
yard the hens were cackling and roosters crowing. On the 
second-floor, the sleek old mo user came gliding tow^ard him 
from the garret-floor, where he had been on a hunting expedi- 
tion among the corn stored there, and paused to curl himself 
cozily around the young man’s feet, who sent him ungra- 
ciously to the right-about, as the attacked members stamped 
the floor with a violence as if they were shaking off snow. 

The windows of his mother’s room w^ere open, but the soft 
spring air that came in was not burdened with the delicious 
perfume that filled the apartment: this came from one of the 
deep closets that stood open, displaying the shelves gleaming 
with closely piled linen; between the silvery white folds of 
which thousands of violets were perishing. During his boy- 
hood his eyes had never been blessed with the sight of a pot 
or glass of the sweet blossoms, standing on table or anywhere 
about. ‘‘ It would get upset, or be in the w^ay,” he was told, 
when he wished to fashion a bouquet, while plucking them, to 
be buried among the linen treasures — how he hated these white 
layers of the stuff to wliich his mother always devoted so much 
time and care; he cast a scoyling glance at them iii passing. 

Mrs. Lucian had evidently been interrupted in looking over 
her register. There upon the square legged oaken table in the 
window" lay the book he recollected so w"ell, with its innumer- 
able entries; but the page open before him contained a-record 
he h^ never seen before. 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUET. 


15 


Apportionment of house-linen for my son Felix/ ^ was 
written at the head of the page. He blushed like a girl as he 
read the entry of his own future household possessions — dozens 
of sheets, towels, spreads, bed and pillow-cases were noted as 
importantly as if his domestic happiness depended entirely 
upon them, and this stupidly serious array of figures was to bo 
engrafted into the merriest, wildest little curly head ever rest- 
ing upon maiden shoulders? ‘‘ Oh, Lucille, how you would 
Uugh!^^ he murmured, smiling at the very idea. 

Mechanically he ran the pages through his fingers. Here 
were thousands upon thousands marked ‘‘Rent income.-’" 
"What immense wealth, and still this everlasting scraping and 
saving and anxiety in regard to the penny that might be lost 
with the breakage of an egg! He ^pushed the book from him 
with disgust, and running his hands impatiently through his 
splendid locks of blonde hair, he walked to the window. 

His elegant presence, and naturally aristocratic manners 
and the delicately perfumed clothes, distinguished liim as much 
the alien to-day in this “ hawk"s nest,"" as the dainty kid 
gloves were out of place upon the clumsy table upon which 
they had been carelessly thrown, or those polished boots upon 
that coarse, bare floor. 

He pressed his brow against the window and gazed out. 
Like some recluse, the Cloister estate lay buried among the 
handsome residences about it. On the other side of the old 
wall was the street promenade, lined with blooming chestnut- 
trees. He felt ashamed to think the fashionable world passed 
by the wretchedly patched inclosure; he was humiliated to 
think that from the bronze-railed balcony of the castle-like 
house opposite, the people could look into the yard between 
the Cloister House and the wall. To be sure, the four great lin- 
den-trees, with rich young foliage, distorted by not one dead 
limb, stood in the center; but the ancient stone seat, and. the 
mottled old rocks around the natural spring they shaded, were 
omamenetd with a lot of freshly scoured milk-pans. And 
what a farm-yard racket! A load of new clover was just en- 
tering the gate; the driver was beating his horses and swear- 
ing at the narrowness of the passageway. A barefooted dairy- 
maid was scolding and driving a couple of obstinate calves out 
of the front yard into their proper quarters, from which they 
had escaped. Swarms of pigeons fluttered up in affright, and 
there was a general screeching and scattering among the 
poultry. 

“Bah! Boorish farming!"" Felix exclaimed between his 


16 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUET. 


teeth, turning his oifended sight away, until it rested upon th« 
lovely parterres of Scliillingscourt. 

With a deep-drawn breath of satisfaction he viewed tho 
place that had always seemed more like home to him than the 
Cloister estate. He could only see part of the lawn mirror — 
from the center of which the fountain sprung — above the ivy- 
covered wall, and he could not catch sight of all the plate-glass 
window-panes, set in their arched and ornamented frames, but 
he had a full view of the three rows of magnificent sycamore- 
trees forming a double avenue into the garden proper, on the 
south side of Schillingscourt; that shady retreat was the play- 
ground where, in company of his little friend Arnold, many 
hapjjy days had been passed. The cool avenue had frequently 
served as salon on hot summer afternoons. Here the baron 
received company, indulged in his siesta, and then drank his 
afternoon eofi'ee. He saw the coffee-pot on the table now — not 
the old brass dripper he recollected so well — that had given 
place to a silver one. There was an unusual smount of silver- 
ware among the dishes, he noticed, and also several cut-glass 
decanters sparkling with liqueurs. The table was not set thus 
in former days, when they sat about it on rustic benches paint- 
ed white. To-day there was a lot of handsome cast-iron fur- 
niture standing among the trees; gayly colored silken pillows 
invited rest; handsomely decorated screens were suggestive of 
tete-a-Ute protected from draughts. 

But the strangest appearance there was the lady who at this 
moment came out^ of the house and began walking up and 
down the avenue, evidently waiting for some one. Arnold 
had no sister, and he had been motherless since early youth; 
and since Felix could remember the good-natured fleshy house- 
keeper had been the ''only female element represented in the 
place, and this was a long trail of glistening blue silk moving 
about in the shaded avenue. After twenty years a womau^s 
spirit and a woman ^s will ruled on an equality with the old 
baron at Schillingscourt again. 

Two months previous, while Felix was attending his aunt^s 
funeral, his friend Arnold ^s marriage had taken place in Cob- 
lentz, and he had simply and curtly announced that he was 
married to ‘‘ that tall girl,'" his Coblentz cousin; and this was 
the new mistress of Schillingscourt. An unusually tall figure, 
narrow-chested, flat-breasted, and inclined to stoop, like most 
tall persons; but certainly aristocratic in bearing, and a well- 
bred lady in every indolent movement. He could not see her 
face fully; but the profile seemed to him sharp and long- 
drawn. English type, and extremely pale, with a wealth qI 


IK THE SCHILLIKOSCOURT. 


1 ? 


pale yellow hair that protested at the use of hair-pins, as if 
they were painful to the young head. She glanced frequently, 
with a touch of impatience, toward the windows and door, and 
moved the cups and cake-baskets again and again, in a nerv- 
ous manner. 

Then a young girl, wearing a bodiced apron, came out of 
the house and placed a shawl about the shoulders of the lady, 
and put gloves upon her hands. Like an automaton, she stood 
and held out the long slender arm until every button was fast- 
ened, nor moved when the girl stooped and arranged the 
buckles on her colored shoes. She uttered no word, but, not- 
withstanding the warm June air, drew her wrappings closely 
around her, as if she were chilled. 

“ Pampered and nervous, thought Felix, as she at last 
threw herself among the crimson cushions of a lounge. 

In the meantime, Adam, an old servant to Baron Krafft, 
had come from the house, leading his little daughter by the 
hand. Adam was one of the oldest servants at Schillingscourt; 
his equable temper was proverbial in the house, and his char- 
acter beyond reproach. He "was a widower, and the little ten- 
year-old girl with him his only child. He had ever been re- 
spected by his fellow-servants, and Felix was consequently 
surprised when the lady’s-maid flounced past him with an 
impudent shrug, and the lady herself failed to take notice of 
his greeting; and his astonishment became still greater as he 
now observed the old man’s frantic actions as he hastened 
from the Column House toward the Cloister estate, where an 
angry gobbler made an attack upon the child, as if he wanted 
to tear her red dress from her person. The little one screamed 
and clung to her father, who drove the turkey away and en- 
deavored to pacify her; but his manner was strange, and his 
face was wild and flushed as if he were intoxicated. As he left 
the window to go down and see the old man, of whom Felix 
was quite fond, he gave one more glance toward the shaded 
avenue, and saw Baron Kraflt approach, leaning on his son’s 
arm; then, with a chivalrous hand-wave, seat himself beside 
his daughter-in-law. But Felix’s interest turned from this 
scene to the one below. He paused at the foot of the stairs a 
moment. The domestic had departed with her butter and 
eggs, and his mother was in the act of removing a roasted fowl 
from the oven. 

‘‘ My brother is not at home, Adam,” said she, to the man 
standing in the kitchen door; and, placing the steaming pan 
on the table, she added: “ I hope you are not here to bother 
him about that foolish affair again?” 


18 


IIS' THE SCHTLLIKGSGOURT. 


Mrs. Lucian, I am here for that purpose/ Mie re- 
plied, firmly, hut respectfully. “ The senator is the only one 
who can help me — he knows that I am innocent — he will honor 
truth and justice.^’ 

“You must be crazy, man!^^ rejoined the lady, tartly. 
“ Do you, perhaps, expect Senator Wolfram to swear that he 
has never been intimately associated with Baron Schilhng’s 
servants 

“ What is the trouble between the families?^' Felix queried, 
greatly surprised. 

“ Oh, Mr. Felix, the trouble is robbing me of home and 
honor Adam replied, with trembling accents. Formerly the 
old man had hailed his return with delight; to-day he did not 
seem to be conscious that this was the first meeting after a 
long absence. “ My good old master has just called me a 
cheat, a miserable spy, and threw his beautiful goblet at me, 
and broke it in a thousand pieces upon the floor. 

“ What nice, what noble manners Mrs. Lucian remarked, 
dryly. She had taken a platter from the cupboard, and was 
examining it closely by the window, to see if speck or blur 
marred its surface. 

Her son was indignant at this busy indifference in the face 
of the sadly altered old man. Extending a friendly hand, he 
said, sincerely sympathetic: “ I can not imagine what should 
induce your master to become so demonstrative — particularly 
against his faithful Adam. Why, he always preferred you 
to — ^ ^ 

“ DidnT he, Mr. Lucian, didnT he? And now — now every- 
thing is changed. Oh, my God the old man lamented, tears 
filling his eyes. “ He calls me a spy — me! lam supposed to 
have listened, and concerned myself about that coal mine busi- 
ness. 

Felix looked inquiringly at his mother. 

“He refers to the coal discovery in the valley,^' she ex- 
plained, in her terse fashion. “ Baron Schilling always was a 
presuming person; he thinks other people incapable of dis- 
cernment; the same ideas his brains develop must not strike 
common mortals. 

“ But it was not his own idea, Mrs. Lucian, Adam ear- 
nestly remarked. “You see, Mr. Felix, the Schillings and 
Wolframs might have continued to till the monastery grounds 
for centuries longer, without thinking of taking a handy’s 
breadth of the stony land adjoining it, much less buying any 
of the miserable land. Old Gotter, the owner, cursed the bar- 
ren stones often enough, and, like his neighbora, never dreamed 


Tir THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


10 


of the wealth lying buried there. But when that stranger en- 
gineer came down here, he saw at a glance what a bed of coal 
lay there under their very eyes.-’ ^ 

‘‘And so there was/’ interrupted Mrs. Lucian, as she un- 
folded a snowy towel and began to wipe the platter. 

“ And, being well acquainted with my master, he proposed 
they buy the land in partnership, and open a coab mine at 
once. My master joyfully entered into the contract, and every- 
thing was settled in secret; but as Master Arnold’s wedding 
was about to take place in Ooblentz just then, they postponed 
purchasing the land until after the marriage. That any one 
else might step in before them never entered their heads. Not 
a soul — so they believed — knew anything about the coal being 
there but themselves. When — think of it — they saw old Got- 
ter he was cursing and fuming like a madman — he had sold 
the land to Senator Wolfram for a trifle, and but just discov- 
ered its value — too late to help himself. Tell me, Mr. Lucian, 
is not this witchcraft?” 

“ A singular coincidence, to say the least of it,” Felix ex- 
claimed in astonishment. 

“ That is what I say. It is luck, and your uncle is not to 
blame for his neighbor’s procrastination,” said his mother; 
“ but old Gotter lies when he says he sold the land for a trifle. 
He laughed in his sleeve at the time,, to think he had disposed 
of his un tillable land so advantageously.” 

Cool and sober, decided and conclusive, was this judgment; 
and notwithstanding her somewhat countrified manners, the 
lady was fine looking. She was still slender and her handsome 
face was crowned with beautiful braids of nut-brown hair, thick 
and glossy as a young girl’s. The former officer’s wife, with 
all her busy-bee existence, never forgot her position. She 
was always well robed and carefully combed, even though the 
pretty feet were incased in leather boots, and a blue hnen 
apron tied over her elegantly fitting dress. 

“ Here, eat, child,” said she, handing Adam’s little daugh- 
ter a piece of cake. The girl turned her darkly frowning 
face away and declined to take it. 

“She won’t take anything, Mrs. Lucian,” said Adam, 
brokenly; “ she has not eaten a mouthful to-day. She can’t 
bear to have people be out of humor with me, and to-day there 
has been nothing but strife and scolding. Ah! Mr. Felix, I’ve 
had a hard time of it lately. My master insists that there has 
been underhand work — that there is a Judas in the house; and 
because I was in and out of the room with wine while the gen- 
tlemen were talking about the matter, suspicion r«sts on poor 


* " - 

^0 m THE SCHILLTHOtSCOUET. 

unhappy me. I could bear the taunts aud hints with patien(^ 
— ^for my Henny^’s sake I clung to the home;’"’ he placed his 
hand tenderly upon the child-s dark hair in speaking, but, 
since yesterday — for people are all talking about the wonderful 
good fortune of the senator and his mine; the coal is said to 
be equal to the best English — my old master is like a changed 
man. I only wanted to beg once more that the senator would 
explain to my master, to make him believe that I had noth- 
ing—^’ 

That is impossible, Adam,^^ Mrs. Lucian shortly inter- 
rupted with. My brother will not be likely to make any 
apologies to the people who are secretly his enemies, because 
he happened to be as clever as they are. Just get that notion 
out of your head, and get yourself out of the scrape the best 
way you can. , - 

The man gritted his teeth and struggled to conquer his bib. 
ter disappointment; then, with a deep sigh, remarked: “ I 
might have known it. Between two such lordly gentleman, 
the honor of a poor miserable servant can go to pot! What is 
there left for an unhappy devil like me but the — river he 
exclaimed in desperation. 

“ Oh, no, father; not that! You won^t do that!^^ the little 
girl cried. 

DonT talk so blasphemous, man,^^ Mrs. Lucian rebuked, 
severely; but Felix took the child’s face gently between his 
hands and tried to quiet her sobbing. 

Don’t cry, dear; your father is too brave and good to do 
an3dhing like that. I will go over to Schillingscourt, if you 
wish, Adam, and speak to the baron.” 

‘‘ No; but thank you for your good-will, Mr. Felix. It will 
only cause you annoyance, and will not help me,” was the de-. 
spondent reply. “ Come, child, we will go to your grand- 
mother’s.” 

“Yes, father, let us go there; but you will stay there, won’t 
you?” she queried, anxiously, while choking down her tears. 
“ You won’t go away in the night, father?” 

“ No, no, my good Henny,” the man replied, putting his 
arm around her as the two walked toward the gate. 

The gobbler ran for her red frock again, but she did not 
heed him; eagerly bending forward, looking into her father’s 
face while keeping step with him, she did not trust his me- 
chanically uttered “no;” she was seeking assurance from his 
countenance while speaking. “ I sha’n’t sleep a bit at all; 
mind now!” she threatened, with tear-quivering voice; “ I shall 
see yo^i if you go out!” The gate closed upon them, and still 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


21 


they heard the unutterably distressed accents and the childish 
threat — “I won’t sleep a wink; I’ll see you if you leave the 
house, and I’ll run after you, father!” Mrs. Lucm shrugged 
her shoulders, saying, with her usual sang froid : 

You can’t do anything with such people; they go off on a 
tangent at the least thing. ” 

“ Well, I should really like to see the individual who could 
keep a calm mental equipoise, when, through false accusations, 
he is being robbed of character and position!” Felix excitedly 
exclaimed. ‘‘ Pardon, mamma, but for centuries the Cloister 
Estate has produced nothing but 'wealthy and sensible people — 
but one impulsive human heart. ” 

We have ^ for centuries ’ baked weekly six charity loaves, 
whether the harvest has been good or not. We also help the 
poor in other ways, even though we make no public display of 
our benevolence. But we are not natures carried away by 
impulse, nor rush headlong with every high-headed idea. To 
be sure, you were not born in the Cloister estate how 
sharp that cold voice could become on occasion — “ you are one 
of the new-fashioned enthusiasts, who, in lifting one person 
sky-high, trample the rights of another under foot. Do you 
really think your uncle is in duty bound to make a public 
declaration, stating that he was not aware of Baron Schilling’s 
‘ secret?’ ” 

Not exactly that, but — ” 

It wouldn’t help that singular creature Adam, any more 
than it would benefit that old man in Schillingscourt. That 
‘ brilliant ’ marriage did not restore the mortgaged estate un- 
conditionally, by any means. The young lady’s guardian, a 
sly fox, drew up a marriage contract that left the Schillings 
much to wish for. This is probably the cause of the old gen- 
tleman’s bad humor, for which the servants suffer.” 

‘‘Poor, old Papa Schilling!” exclaimed Felix, sorrowfully; 
“ no wonder he feels bitterly disappointed — doubly so under 
these circumstances. That coal mine would have been his 
salvation. I am very, very sorry; the poor man is forced to 
do penance for his predecessors. ” 

His mother seemed very much occupied. She made no re- 
ply, although she knew to the contrary; but she never cor- 
rected or contradicted, only in her own interest, and then she 
could do so energetically. While her son was pacing the floor 
she prepared a cucumber for salad. 

“ It is. extraordinary, however, that two heads should have 
entertained the same idea at almost the same hour, in ,conneo- 


IK THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


fcion with a treasure that had lain before them, without theil 
suspecting it, for ages,^^ Felix remarked, after awhile. 

I rarely ask questions, but have my opinions formed 
by what I see. Your uncle may possibly be quite as clever as 
that engineer, but didn’t care to undertake the risk when he 
made the discovery first; but since little Guy’s arrival the 
Wolframs bloom again, and it is their duty to acquire and pro- 
vide anew.” 

‘"Good heavens! Is this delving and "acquiring’ to con- 
tinue into all eternity, mamma? I should think your family 
had more than enough long ago. ” 

Mrs. Lucian turned about angrily, and cast a long, unpleas- 

ark of 



none 


had ever ventured upon so audacious a thought, much less ex- 
pressed it on the Cloister estate. Such remarks might scare 
the genius of abundance, like a sudden cry startling the sleep- 
walker from safety to ruin. 

‘"Our wealth is not a subject for discussion in the family — 
recollect that!” said she with cutting emphasis, washing her 
hands meanwhile under the hydrant above the kitchen sink. 

"" Your dinner is ready — go into the room. I’ll be there 
directly,” she added, brusquely. 

It was a rude command. Felix bit his lips angrily, and 
passed by his mother and entered the adjoining room. Here 
the dining-table had always stood, and the space in the arched 
window was the undisputed seat of the lady of the house. The 
windows faced the back yard, like those in the kitchen. The 
out-buildings and stone wall separated the place from Schillings- 
court. Along the second story of the building ran a porch, 
with a number of doors leading into what had once been thc' 
monks’ cells; they werehow^used as granaries and store-rooms 
for fruit. Fakes and sieves hung on the outer walls, and the 
wooden balusters were covered with drying grain-sacks and 
horse-blankets. 

The yard and room below were shadowed by this porch, and 
more so still by the monster branches of an ancient maple, that 
spread its long arms over the place. In this greenish, uncertain 
light stood the sewing-table, and here ,the senator’s quiet wife 
had passed the restful hours of her none too affection-enriched 
married life. The cackling from the poultry-yard, the bellow- 
ing of the cattle in the stables, the bustling of the field-hands 
and milk-maids — this had been the daily music of her solitary 
existence. Felix recollected that she upon one occasion 
brought the wicker cradle, with its sleeping girl baby, into the 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


23 


room, under the impression that her stern husband had gone. 
Quite unexpected be returned, and she had started, like some 
guilt-detected culprit, thimble, shears, and needle-case drop- 
ping on the floor, as she listened to his reproof, with her pale 
face turning crimson, as he gave a sneering glance at the 
cradle, remarking: “ This was his dining-room, and not the 
nursery 


The scene was vividly called to his mind on entering the 
room, for on almost the identical spot a child was now sleep- 
ing — but not in the primitive wicker-basket, with its check 
hed-clothes — a handsome crib, with green silk drapery, and a 
green veil hung over the. soft white spread. The chair beside 
the sewing-stand, where the mild-faced woman used to sit, was 
occupied by a square-built person with a cloth tied above a 
stupidly impertinent face, who was knitting on a coarse stock- 
ing. She made no attempt to rise when the young gentleman 
came in, but continued rocking the crib with her foot. She 
was perfectly conscious that, for the time being, the “ nurse 
was the most important person about the place. 


Felix would like to have taken a peep at his slumbering 
cousin, but the sight of that odious female usurping his aunt^s 
place incensed him. 

He seated himself at the table, and drew from his pocket a 
leathern case containing a silver knife and fork. It was tho 
only thing belonging to the Lucian household that the angry, 
implacable woman had taken with her from Konigsberg — a 
present to Felix from his long-since deceased grandfather. 
General Lucian. It had been stowed away in a remote corner 
of an upstairs closet, where Felix had found it during a recent 
visit Lome. Eecognizing his property with secret delight, and 
notwithstanding his mother’s protest, he had claimed it. 

Pushing aside the wooden-handled knife and fork belonging 
to the house, he laid his own on the napkin spread for him. 

At this moment his mother entered with a roasted chicken 
and the cucumber salad on a waiter, and was about placing a 
warmed plate before her son, when her eyes fell on the change 
he had made. She colored, and remained motionless. 

Well, is our table-ware not fine enough for you?” said 
she, hoarsely. 

‘‘ It is not that, mamma,” rejoined the young man, looking 
almost tenderly at the name engraved in large letters — Lucian 
— upon the handle of the articles; “but it makes me happy to 
possess something belonging to the old days. I shall nevej 
' part from these mementoea. I rem^ember well how he looked 


2i 


m THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


— my glorious grandpapa — although I was but four years old 
■when he died. Papa used — 

A clattering noise caused him to stop suddenly, and with 
affright he recollected that for the first time in many years 
that dear, but by his mother severely ostracized word ‘‘ Papa,^'’ 
had escaped him. And now she stood before him, that angry 
mother, with glittering eyes, and every particle of color had 
deserted her face, a sudden spasm of the hand had involuntarily 
dashed the plate to the floor. The nurse gave a shriek, and 
the child began to scream at the top of its voice. 

Well! Mrs. Lucian, the senator ought to know this! It^s 
enough to frighten little Guy into fits!^^ the woman impudently 
corrected, as she lifted the child from its crib. 

To the unbounded astonishment of her son, the haughty lady 
made no reply. She assisted in quieting the screamer, and 
then gathered up the fragments of the broken dish and went 
into the kitchen. Pelix knew how fervently a direct Wolfram 
heir had been longed for in the house, but he had no idea that 
this youngster in swaddling clothes was such a power on the 
estate. He gazed with secret dismay at the mop of black hair 
protruding from under the slightly disarranged cap on its head. 
Could the senator's wife, with her fine blue-eyed, fair -faced 
girl-babies, look upon her earthly home, she would have been 
startled to see the gypsy-like little fellow whose life had been 
purchased with her own. His ears stood out boldly from the 
brown, wrinkled, meager face; his long thin fingers squirmed 
claw-like upon the white swaddling pillow. Such was the 
Wolfram heir. 

Sleep, baby, sleep — sleep gently as a sheep, sung the 
nurse in a cracked voice, keeping time with her hand on the 
back of her charge, as she marched across the room and pushed 
open a door leading into a large apartment with an immensely 
arched window overlooking the front yard. This was the sen- 
ator’s office and private room. The child was hushed, and the 
nurse pushed open the shutters and began to joke with some 
hands at work in front of the window. This was a most un- 
heard-of proceeding on the Cloister estate. However simple 
the household arrangements, the servants had always been 
severely disciplined and kept in slave-like subjection — ^the 
Wolframs understood the art of inspiring respect. 

Mrs. Lucian had returned with another plate, and merely 
cast a passing glance at the noisy window; not a feature of 
her handsome countenance gave evidence of the shocked emo- 
tions of a moment before; and for tlie first time in his life this 
exterior appeared unniil^ral to her son, The last few 


IK THE SClITLLiKGSCOUilt, 


^5 

minutes had proved to him that beneath this cool indifference 
and unmoved circumspection there glowed in the soul of his 
mother a smothered fire that one little word had fanned into a 
flame. Opposite the table was the coarsely chiseled stone- work 
of an arched door. This had led to the elevated parterre of 
the Column House corridor, and the passage-way from th® 
monastery kitchen to the Column House dining-room — in fact 
the only connecting door between the two buildings. 

When the property was divided, the door had been walled 
up, but the practical Wolframs had left a little space on their 
side, forming a shallow closet. The door to this Mrs. Lucian 
unlocked now — here were kept the household account books, 
and the tin box into which flowed the moneys taken in from 
the sale of milk, poultry, etc. Felix watched his mother 
gloomily as she removed from her belt a strong leather satchel 
and emptied its contents — all small change — into the kitchen 
treasury. She was obliged to stand — like the senator's wife 
before her — at the milk-table and measure out the exact quan- 
tities. She had to chase the poultry into captive quarters, and 
get the vegetables from the garden, and collect the money 
therefor from the purchasers. Felix could scarcely swallow 
his dinner for vexation; and Ms temper was not improved 
when the coarse laughter of the nurse rang through the house. 
He threw down the knife and fork, and got up. “ How can 
you tolerate such vulgarity, mamma he exclaimed, angrily. 

‘Mf I lacked discretion, very likely I should not endure it,'’^ 
she quietly replied. “ The child, is delicate and his life depends 
on that coarse person; so I put up with it and remain silent. 

Her son felt the blood mount to his face. This woman sac- 
rificed her very principes for the benefit of her brother's child, 
and her own she had made fatherless rather than remain silent; 
scenes between his parents were called to mind; he remem- 
bered well how coldly unrelenting she had maintained the last 
word, until the exasperated husband had rushed from the room 
furious with temper. 

Would she have passed her son with such superb indifference 
in going into the adjoining room, had she imagined the stormy 
feelings raging so bitterly in Ms bosom at this moment? 

We had better close the window. Trine," said she pleas- 
antly to the nurse; the draught might injure the baby. " 

‘‘ God forbid; there is no draught here at all, or I should 
have felt it. I am the nurse, Mrs. Lucian, and I ought t( 
know what is best, and what not," the female retorted. Sh« 
was probably familiar with the lady's determined character^, 
however,-, for while grumblii^ her impertinent reply, and wMli 


IK- THE SCHILLINGSCOIJRT. 


the Bhutters were being fastened behind her, she had returned 
to the crib, laid down the child, and resumed her knitting. 

In the meantime Felix had crossed the threshold of his 
nucleus room, to his own surprise, with something of the 
timidity of his boyhood. The walls were still lined with the 
disagreeable-smelling calf-hound books. His uncle had long 
since retired from public life, but during his terms of office 
this had been the so-called ‘‘business room, and a respect- 
inspiring object for everybody in the house. Often loud voices 
had re-echoed along this hall in violent altercation, and fre- 
quently men had rushed away, banging the doors after them; 
for the senator was not a favorite with the people. They hated 
him for his overbearing character and his scoffing, arbitrary 
disposition. 

Felix was hardly ever permitted to enter the room, unless 
sent there to be reprimanded by his uncle, and yet he used to 
stand there as if magically chained, after the rebuke had been 
delivered, until ordered out by the senator. 

Along the southern wall ran a gallery divided by a flight of 
narrow stairs. Here were represented a number of rudely ex- 
ecuted Biblical scenes, carved in the wooden panels. These 
distorted figures, with wonderful disks of glory emitting rays 
about their heads, were not what had attracted the lady’s eyes 
• — it was the organ up there. 

It was a primeval affair, with a few pewter pipes and very 
broad keys. It had been built by a monk, in fact by the abbot 
himself, and this room had been his retreat. The Wolframs 
had not disturbed its original arrangements. It had its pious 
uses, and they were all solicitous not to profane that which might 
bless their prosperity: like many other egotistical human 
souls, they mingled their fear of God with a fear of losing 
their worldly goods. To be sure, they never acknowledge this. 

At the first glance, Felix noticed that the organ had disaji- 
peared. Mute with surprise, he pointed to the plain board of 
stained wood between the carved panels. 

“ You are astonished,-’^ said his mother; “ it gave us all a 
terrible fright. The pipes had long seemed tottering, but we 
thought nothing about that; and the day after Guy’s birth the 
whole thing came tumbling down with a frightful noise. It 
has been useless only as it served as a haunt for mice; but it 
grieved us, nevertheless, for the Wolframs have all held it 
sacred.. Your uncle would permit no strange hand to clear 
away the ruin; he collected every scrap religiously-^not a splin- 
ter found its way to the kitchen stove.” 

Felix stepped up on the gallery and opened the plain space 


IK THE SCniLLIKGSCOIJRT. 


27 

ttiat formed a ^oor. Sure enough, in the excavation where the 
organ had stood, the remains were carefully piled; the pipes, 
the round-bellied wooden angels that had guarded them, and 
every little scrap of the instrument seemed to have been gath- 
ered, as if ruin f^f the whole Cloister estate might be scattered 
broadcast by the straying of one splinter. 

If this was his uncle^s work, then the repairs in the damaged 
wall must have been done by him also. Felix observed that 
some new boards had been nailed across the top of the open- 
ing in the wall, and laughingly exclaimed to his mother, who 
was just leaving the room: “Uncle has been working in de- 
fiance of a carpenter 

At this instant the door to the front hall opened, and a 
heavy step crossed the threshold. 

“ What are you huntijag up there, sir?’^ The words came 
sharp and in disagreeably surprised accents. 

Felix started — this tone, coming from his uncle, always 
affected his nerves like a shrill metallic sound, but he hastened 
down the steps, and with a graceful inclination of the head 
extended a hand to the speaker. 

“Will you have the goodness to close the door of that closet 
you have so inquisitively been prying into?'’^ the senator said 
with a frown, oblivious of the extended hand. “ And since 
when has it been the custom here for you to seek a welcome 
in my private apartment 

The young man had cleared the space with a bound, and 
was trying to shut the swollen door as he replied, ironical^: 
“Since your hired help have cleared the way, uncle.” He 
looked over his shoulder into the other room, where the nurse 
had just bobbed a respectful courtesy to her master. 

“ The senator knows that little Guy wonT go to sleep any- 
where else,^^ the woman retorted in justification. 

The senator threw his hat on the table without remark. 
Tall, not very broad across the shoulders, but the picture of 
vigor and strength was this man; in the ancient costume of 
ruffles and lace, with plumed hat, he would have made an ad- 
mirable Wallenstein figure. His closely cut, slightly gray hair 
came to a point in the center of his forehead. His small, in- 
telligent face was turned to a healthy nut-brown color. 

He went with muffled footsteps toward the crib, and, care- 
fully lifting the veil, bent over the sleeping child and listened. 

“ ITOat is this, Trine? The little fellow breathes irregular 
— he appears feverish. ’ The man^s face was almost agonized; 
the self-important expression gave place to intense solicitude. 

“ little Guy has been awfully frightened, ^ ^ replied the nurse, 


28 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


folding her hands over her stomach, and added, complainingly: 
“ He canH stand any noise at all, poor child, and Mrs. Lucian 
dropped a plate on the floor awhile ago. I nearly died with 
fright. I knew it would make him sick, he cried so hard, Mr. 
Senator.'’^ 

The senator gave his sister a very black look, but said noth- 
ing. Mrs. Lucian was pale with wrath as she walked around 
the table, absently picking up first one thing then another. 
Then she hastened to the crib and placed her hand on the 
child^s head. 

‘‘ You are imaginative — there is nothing the matter with the 
child, she said, in her short, decided fashion; but seemingly 
relieved, herself, with the result of her examination. 

‘‘ Thank God!'’^ exclaimed the senator. ‘‘ I know, Teresa, 
you understand such things; but would it not have been better 
for Felix to dine up in your room? Trine is right, Guy canT 
stand noise, not even loud talking. While your son remains, 
we will occupy the front corner room. But the child mast be 
taken to his room at once; the air is heavy with the smell of 
cooking here. 

He placed his hands upon the head of the crib and motioned 
the nurse to take hold of the foot, but Mrs. Lucian anticipated 
her, and thus brother and sister carried the new bearer of the 
Wolfram name — a creature, in their estimation, precious as a 
crown prince — through kitchen and hall-way, the nurse fol- 
lowing with a grand spread of double chin and a partly knitted 
stocking. 

CHAPTER III. 

The door was left open, and Felix felt a lively desire to go 
out and never more return to this inhospitable ‘‘ hawk^s nest,^^ 
from which the miserable, sickly family scion, with his weak 
claws, had already cast him, the inmate of another breed. 
Surely he was neither envious nor jealous, he had hailed the 
news of this Wolfram arrival with joy; the thought had ever 
been odious to him that he might at some future time be forced 
to reside permanently in that dismal Cloister house. But he 
did not dream that with the first breath drawn by this little 
misshapen fellow a change would take place that would make 
his life on the Cloister estate intolerable, and, to a certain ex- 
tent, also make him homeless. His uncle had but just im- 
^plied that his presence was superfluous, because it aifected the 
delicate nerves of his son. The senator had treated the dreamy 
lad with harsh severity; but as years passed, approaching man- 


tit TtlE SCHiLLllq-CSCOTJllT. 


hood had brought him some consideration, and something^like 
confidential association was established between them. Felix 
raged inwardly. Not to his individual endeavors and honest 
striving to win his uncle’s respect could he attribute the later 
usage, as he had believed; but consideration for the only one 
in whose veins some Wolfram blood flowed, for the prospective 
master of the Cloister estate — now the “ necessary evil,” the 
‘‘ makeshift,” might be shaken off — in the silk-lined crib lay 
his own flesh and blood; and the “ foreign element ” was re- 
ceived again with the same arrogant treatment that met the 
poor little “ humming-bird ” on its first entrance to the hawk’s 
nest. 

And his mother? He did not doubt her mother love, though 
she was as niggardly in outward display of it as she was in 
spending money; she called all such demonstrations “ affec- 
tation. ” She had an exalted opinion of her brother’s character 
and judgment. His severity was the proper thing; a man 
should be hard and stern; a woman domestic and neat. She 
followed him blindly. Her few intimate acquaintances de- 
clared her to be a Spartan indeed where the house of Wolfram 
was concerned — her own son and his interests were secondary 
matters. The thought that the family name, which had 
bloomed for three hundred years high in public esteem, would 
die with her brother, had been a source of consuming grief to 
lier. She never loved the little flaxen-haired nieces, and en- 
tertained a secret contempt for their mother. Felix was aware 
of this, and had noted the shadow that fell upon her face when 
any one remarked upon the name Lucian Wolfram as the fut- 
ure representative of the estate. She grudged this distinction 
to the name of him ‘‘ who had wrecked her life.” She would 
make no effort to dispel her son’s impression, nor strive for a 
just foothold in his uncle’s house for him. And why should 
she? He had no need of this inhospitable roof any longer. 

The young man who, but a moment ago, had his foot upon 
the threshold with departing intention, turned back to the 
window — this was not a time to cultivate indignation — he had 
not, as he led his mother falsely to believe, come home for 
“ recreation,” but to hold a very important conference. 

An apprehensive dread caused his heart to throb suddenly. 
While still in Berlin this interview seemed a trifling affaii*; but 
since looking once more into those two reserved faces in the 
background of the strictly simple, severely regulated country 
household, the subject had become a giant-like difficulty. ^ 

“ Lucille!” he sighed, as his gaze wandered through the 
foliaged brnnches of the great elm that the setting sun made 


80 IK ’Tmi SCniLLmGSCOTTllT. 

transparent with its radiant light. As if in response to his 
call, a willowy figure^ with long curling hair falling over its 
shoulders, glided over the verdure-tinted ground. Every nerve 
of this seventeen-j^ear-old being seemed alive with fun and 
mischief, the beautifully curved lips quivering with saucy 
wantonness. He felt the white, warm, girlish arms closing 
about his neck; felt her breath upon his cheeks, and the bliss 
that had intoxicated him for months thrilled him again, and 
gave him courage and confidence in his ideal views of life once 
more. His mother had returned to the kitchen, and was cut- 
ting a couple of generous slices of bread for two beggar children 
standing in the hall. The janitor was there also; Felix heard 
his firm footfall on the flag-stones, and he started to join them, 
but halted suddenly. 

The kitchen window was open, and he heard one of the field 
hands say to a woman carrying an armful of clover to th(< 
stables: Say, the old man at Schillingscourt has sent Adam 
away in a hurry — the coachman told me. He thinks it^s too 
bad.^^ 

‘‘ Attend to your work! I don’t pay you for gossiping!” the 
senator called out. The man started as if he had been struck. 
Banging the window shut, the senator turned with a frown to 
his sister, saying, as he took from a stone ledge* one of the shin- 
ing tumblers: “ Do you allow those people to waste their time 
in talking right under your eyes?” 

That is a superfluous question. You know very well that 
I always maintain discipline; but the workmen are excited 
about Adam’s dismissal — he has been discharged on account of 
that coal mine affair. He was here again with his lamenta*- 
tions — he even threatened to drown himself. ” 

Felix observed his uncle staring absently at the porch rail- 
ing strung with grain-sacks and horse-blankets, and twisting 
at his chin whiskers as if he only half heard what his sister 
was saying. 

“ Bah! idle talk!” he cut her off shortly with; and filling 
his glass under the hydrant, he drank the clear, bubbling 
water at one breath; then passing his handkerchief over his 
mustache, and also mopping his brow as if that was moist as 
well, he added: “I’ll have to give this Baron von Schilling a 
decisive overhauling, I’m thinking; he is. going entirely too 
far with his childish wrath about this matter. ” 

“ That is all the vindication Adam needs, uncle; all he asks 
' Is that some light may be thrown on the manner of your coin' 
cident discovery, ” Felix remarked. 

The senator turned. He had large gray-blue eyes that 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 31 

looked upon lais fellow-men with a supercilious, unfeeling ex- 
pression, as a rule, but they could gleam in a partly closed 
fashion from under their heavy brows, like suppressed sparks, 
and thus they surveyed the elegantly dressed, fine-looking 
youth standing in the door-way, from head to foot; then his 
glance fell on the shabby hat held in his own hand — for the 
senator rarely bought a new one. 

Ignoring his nephew^s remarks, he began dusting his clothes 
and coarse hoots with his handkerchief, and indicating Felix 
with a motion of his head, while a sarcastic smile played about 
his lips, he said to his sister: 

‘‘ He stands there like a living fashion-plate, Teresa — a 
tailor’s model — so fine and polished! That natty jacket would 
look well in a coal mine or a hay-loft, Felix.” 

Well, uncle, you see it was not made to be worn in either 
of those places. Coal mines and hay-lofts! What have I to 
do with them?” Felix replied, smiling to disguise his irrita- 
tion. 

‘‘Indeed! Have you then retired from active life already? 
You see, Teresa? I always told you these visionary minds 
were better off than we are; they throw away a hundred thou- 
sand dollars as if they were so many pebbles. Ahem! Felix, my 
little Guy played you quite a trick. The Cloister estate is no 
bagatelle!” 

Felix’s hearing was sensitiyely strung to the intonations of 
his uncle’s voice. He fancied he perceived a wild triumph in 
its ring now — joy at his supposed discomfiture, an intention to 
wound him, and unbounded pride in the possession of an heir. 
“ Thank God, I am not envious. I hope the child will live 
and be a joy to you. ” There was sincerity in the wish, and 
in the frank, open countenance of the speaker. “ But if you 
think I am indifferent to this world’s goods, you are mis- 
taken,” he added, “for never have I wished for wealth m 
much as at the present time. ” 

“ Are you in debt?” the senator queried, sharply. 

Felix erected his head proudly with a negative shake. 

“ Why, then? Has your mother put you on short allow- 
ance, and do you want more money to invest in such trash?’’ 
He approached the young man, and touched a charm attached 
to his watch-chain. “ As I live, these are diamonds!” he 
cried, examining the locket closely. “ Is this your taste, 
Teresa?” 

Mrs. Lucian removed her kitchen apron, and hung it on a 
nail, then joined her brother, saying, without exhibiting any 
interest further than giving a quick, covert glance at the jewel,* 


m THE SCHlLLINGSCOHEt. 


I uover buy such modern foolery/^ Then she lifted her 
dark, penetrating eyes^, like a scrutinizing judge, to her son's 
crimsoning face, and asked, shortly: ‘‘ Where did you get it?" 

“Trom a lady — " 

“ Young ladies, my boy, rarely have money enough to make 
such presents," the senator interpolated, swinging the locket 
back and forth with evident pleasure. “ I'll tell you where 
you got it, Felix— from your friend Baroness Leo. The ex- 
pensive locket probably contains a venerable lock of gray hair 
—eh?" 

“ No, uncle, a glossy brown one," he replied, desirous of 
being honest. A happy smile illuminated his face, but the 
next instant he experienced a sensation of fright. The decisive 
moment was at hand, and he was unprepared for it. The two 
stoics stood before him — malice and sarcasm on the face of 
one; displeasure and surprise on the other. Never had he 
faced the stohd Wolfram spirit with so little courage as in this 
distressing moment. 

“ Be patient, mamma," said he, coaxingly, taking both her 
hands and pressing them to his bosom. “ Give me time — " 

‘‘No!" she interrupted, releasing herself from his hold. 
“ You know I always insist on explanations at once, whenever 
there has been any misunderstanding — and there seems to be 
a very significant one just now. Do you suppose I'm going 
to be kept awake to-night thinking about the dark road you 
appear to be traveling? Who is the person?" 

The big blue eyes of the young man began to sparkle with 
indignation. He remained silent, and endeavored to compose 
himself by passing his hand over his brow and the splendid 
blonde waves of hair that fell over it. 

“What a brave champion you are!" sneered the senator. 
“What's the matter — are you afraid we'll eat you and your 
brown-haired girl? She can't be a beggar if she has diamonds 
to give away. It's the family — pedigree not all right — don't 
like to own up, eh? Ashamed of — " 

“ Ashamed — ashamed of my Lucille? of Lucille Fournier! 
Ask about her in Berlin, and they will tell you that half the 
titles in the city are at her feet — that she could marry into 
a family of the highest rank, had she not preferred me. But 
J know that an exotic can not flourish in a German corn-field, 
and I know that everything called talent meets with but little 
favor in this house; I was only embarrassed because I knew 
the stubborn prejudices I should have to contend with — not 
for myself did I hesitate, but to evade the imkind words that 


IN^ THE SCHILLINGSCOUKT. 


33 


I was certain would, be hurled at my Lucille — by an unpre- 
pared disclosure. And I will not tolerate them!"' 

They had driven him desperately, and his self-respect re- 
sented it. He looked fearlessly into his mother's face. She 
stood staring at him like a statue, her pale lips drawn deeply 
down into a hard curve, one hand braced on a corner of the 
table. 

“ Lucille's mother," continued Felix, abruptly, “^is a cele- 
brated woman. " 

And the father — is he celebrated too?" the senator queried, 
with a sneer. 

“ The parents are separated, like — " he was about to say, 
“ like my own," but the sudden flashing of his mother's eyes 
caused him to leave the sentence unfinished. A silence ensued; 
but, feeling the necessity of bringing this distressing situation 
to an end, he said, hurriedly: 

“ Madame Fournier is the danseuse — " 

“ Ah, bah, Felix, speak German!" the senator interrupted, 
ironically. ‘‘ Say the ballet-dancer, with short dresses and 
bare neck, who flies across the stage every night — b-r-r-r ' ' — 
he gave himself a shake and laughed scornfully — that is the 
prospective mother-in-law, Teresa!" 

With severe reproach he lifted his forefinger at his sister, his 
sharp face hardening into the misanthropically hateful expres- 
sion that made him so disliked by the public. 

“ Do you remember what I prophesied five-and-twenty years 
ago? I told you the time would come when you would curse 
your choice of a husband in your children? Did I not? Now 
shake the despicable element off, if you can!" 

‘‘That is impossible now," she replied, calmly; “but the 
frivolous stuff he wants to fetch into the house, that I'll shake 
off, depend on it!" 

The entrance of a girl with a basket of greens that she placed 
on the kitchen-table, and began to prepare for cooking, silenced 
her for the moment. Sending the girl into the yard, she bolted 
the door in the hall and returned. 

The young man's heart beat furiously, as the woman in her 
black, flowing mourning dress, and perfectly colorless but 
determined face, advanced^ rapidly toward him, and he invol- 
untarily placed his hand on the locket. 

His mother smiled in cold disdain as she noted the action. 

“Don't be alarmed!" said she. “I have no intention of 
touching that disreputable present with my honest hands; we 
all know how such people get their diamonds. Be sensible — 
it is my wish and request that you remove it yourself — if not, 


34 


IN THE SCHIJ.LINGSCOURT. 


experience will make you wish that you had cast it from you 
with disgust — 

Never he exclaimed, as with a smile of triumphant love 
he unfastened the jewel and pressed it fervently to his lips. 

“ Tomfoolery muttered the senator between his teeth. 

Mrs. Lucianos eyes gleamed suddenly with a passion of jeal- 
ousy uncommon to that coldly calculating, complacent nat- 
ure. 

“ Tomfoolery!^^ again exclaimed the senator, as Felix placed 
the precious token in his breast-pocket, and placed his hand 
over it tenderly as if he were holding the donor to his heart. 

I should think you would he ashamed to conduct yourself in 
such a theatrical manner before decent people. It^s incompre- 
hensible to me how you can presume to mention such liaisons 
in the presence of your reputable family on the Cloister estate 
— such things are never spoken of by respectable people — 

“ Uncle exclaimed Felix, unable to restrain himself. 

Mr. Attorney sneered the senator, crossing his arms and 
staring contemptuously at his nephew. 

You are making yourself ridiculous with your absurd in- 
dignation,'’^ his mother said, quietly, placing her hand upon 
the clinched fist of her son, that had been lifted involuntarily 
to a threatening attitude. She was her unruffled self again; 
neither son nor brother had observed the unnatural glow in her 
eyes. “ Your uncle is right. It required courage to speak of 
such people before us.'’-’ 

‘‘ Surely not more than my poor Lucille will have to sum- 
mon in confessing her love for me to her family,’’ replied Felix. 
“ Madame Fournier lives like a princess in Berlin, and her 
mother, a lady of high social standing, presides in the house, 
and entertains persons of the highest rank. Arnold von Schilh 
ing can tell you that we were simply humble individuals in 
that brilliant circle — the central figure and idol of which 
Lucille has been for the last year. She is more beautiful than 
her mother and quite as talented, and mother and grandmoth- 
er look upon her as the rising star — ” 

“Will you please inform me what the characters are of the 
wives who visit this Madame Fournier with their husbands?” 
queried his mother, with cutting emphasis. 

Felix was annoyed, and his eyes sought the floor as he re- 
plied: 

“ The gentlemen are nearly all unmarried — ” 

“ And the married ones leave their honest wives at home!’^ 
quickly said the mother, with indescribable malignity and scorn. 

‘ If you imagine you can dazzle me with their lamentable 


IK THE SCllILLIKGSCOURT. 


35 


splendor and aped aristocracy, you are greatly mistaken. I 
know the vile, the dissolute life behind the painted canvay. 
The knowledge was dearly bought. 

Felix .started as this one ray of light, contained in his moth- 
er’s Vford'S, fell upon his childish recollections of the old home 
in Konigsberg — he began to understand why she had gone out 
muffled and closely veiled after nightfall. She had secretly 
followed his father. This acknowledgment robbed him of all 
hope — he had not only to contend against ‘ ‘ narrow-minded 
prejudices,” but the insulted wife, who had seen herself sup- 
planted by ‘‘ that class of people,” stood before him in her 
outraged majesty. He grew desperate. I am not at liberty 
to deny your assertion, for I do not know what your experience 
has been,” said he, striving to speak calmly; ‘‘in some re- 
spects I agree with you, but I can assure you that in the 
Fournier establishment propriety has never been violated. 
Lucille has never appeared in public, although she is con- 
sidered a finished actress — fier mother having been her teacher; 
her own star is in its decline, and she looks forward to a splen- 
did future for her daughter — the profits of which, of course, 
she expects to share. She is so set upon this idea that the ad- 
dresses of Count L for Lucille’s hand hr^ve been ignored. 

Lucille is soon to make her delut; I am a.nxious to prevent 
this, as I have no wish to marry an actress and my visit to you 
was for the purpose of — ” 

“ Is the girl fond of dancing?” Mrs. Lucian asked, dryly. 

“ Passionately so; but she is willing to give up everything 
for my sake;” his voice trembled with tenderness as he said it. 
“ Judge by this how well she loves m^, mamma.” 

An expressively mocking smile wa's his answer. 
i “ And, as I gather from your remarks, this mamma in Ber- 
lin, with an eye for dividends, kno^ws nothing of these blissful 
hopes and plans?” 

“ No,” Felix replied, greatly oppressed by the aggravating 
manner assumed by his mother; “ as a man of honor it was 
my duty to find out first what I liad to offer Madame Fournier 
in compensation for sacrificiiig her own plans, in taking my 
chances with other suitors for Lucille’s hand.” 

“ I should think there would be little difficulty in summing 
up that matter,” the senator rfmiarked. “ I fancy your im 
come as attorney would just abo/ut provide Mademoiselle Four- 
nier with pin money.” ' ■ 

The young man’s face becaj,me red with a sense of shame 
and indignation, but controlling himself, he replied: 


m THE SCHILLIi^GSCOUET. 


86 

” I thought of leaving the city and opening an office here in 
town. 

Collect your senses, Felix, they must be wandering."’^ 
Mrs. Lucian placed her hand on his arm heavily, and her voice 
rang with implacable rancor. Let me help you clear the 
mist from your brain, by prompting you in what you will say 
to this Madame Fournier, who entertains in such grand style 
and lives like a princess, who declined titles for her daughter, 
and expects to realize millions from the ballet prancing of her 
scholar. By adhering strictly to facts, you will say to her: *' I 
have no prospect, I own not a farthing^s worth of real estate, 
and depend entirely on my clients for a means of subsistence. 
Your princess daughter will be obliged to don a kitchen apron, 
cook, patch and darn; her social talents are of no value to me, 
for the best room in a poor lawyer'^s house would scarcely be a 
suitable apartment in which to receive distinguished notabilities 
• — and, in my mother’s house she will under no circumstances 
be received. ’ ” 

Oh, mother!” cried the young man. 

‘‘ My son,” she continued, disregarding his wail of despair, 
‘‘you remarked, just now that you wanted to be rich, very 
rich. I have no doubt of it, for it requires money to run a 
‘princely establishtnent;’ you thought your mother’s wealth 
would move the balance in your favor — and you may not be 
quite wrong there — but every penny of this money, that has 
been accumulating for eenturies, is the result of industry and 
economy; and this I tell you once for all ” — her symmetrical 
figure rose to its fullest^'- height as she imperiously lifted her 
right hand — “ rather thai^ see the savings of our honest hands 
and honorable labor squs^ndered by a debauching theatrical 
rabble, I would bequeath i^, sou for sou, back to the Wolfram 
name. Now act according I’v 

“Is this your ultimatum, pother?” asked Felix, with pale 
lips and dimmed eyes. 

“My ultimatum. Forget fihe girl. You must; I insist on 
it. I am speaking for your ^:>wn good. The time will come 
when yomwill thank me!” ^ 

“ People are not apt to be i grateful toward those who have 
destroyed their happiness!” F^lix retorted, nov/ fully aroused. 
“ Pour your wealth into yon “olfram crib and welcome! It 
is yours to do with as you see kit; but thereby you forfeit the 
right to dictate in a matter tmat effects my whole existence. 
You prescribe for me with an efgotistical dominion as if I were 
a thing without flesh or blQpd, t , \ce of wax that you can re- 
model at pleasure wi^^ Wo' - - spirit. You changed thd 


IN Tis SOHILLINOSCOURT. 87 

course of my destiny on your own responsibility once before— -• 
that was an unwarrantable robbery. I was then a child, and 
had to follow whither you willed; I have now a will of my own, 
and you shall not a second time subject me to a cruel depriva- 
tion!^^ 

‘‘ My Lord!^^ groaned the woman as if she had received a 
fatal blow. She had taken a step toward the door as it she 
would have fled, then turned, and with uplifted hands stared 
in frightful amazement at her son; but the veins fllled wrathily 
on the senator’s brow as he clutched his nephew’s arm and 
shook him in a brutal manner. 

‘‘ What are you talking about, you miserable fellow? Of 
what have you been robbed, you beggar? Speak!” 

Of a father,” Felix replied unmoved, but with an energetic 
shake releasing his arm from his uncle’s grasp. If a parent 
dies ’tis a dispensation of a higher power, and children are 
obliged to submit; but no one has a right to separate father 
and son and leave their lives incomplete. They belong to each 
other even more than mother and son. My father loved me 
unspeakably. I can feel the pulsations of his heart yet as he 
used to embrace me with such passionate tenderness. I can 
never forget it, nor my handsome soldier father whom you 
called ‘ frivolous,’ because he had a warm, generous heart.” 

He drew a breath of infinite relief, as if a heavy burden that 
he had borne since boyhood were at last removed. 

With the last words, his mother had left the room; he heard 
her dress sweeping over the kitchen flag-stones, he heard her 
open the glass door into the rear yard; he saw her cross it with 
bowed head and enter the back building leading into the gar- 
den. 

Prodigal son!” exclaimed the senator, hoarse with rage. 

Your mother will never forgive you! Go! leave my house; 
there is no place here for such as you! Thank God that the 
Wolfram race lives anew in my son, and delivers us from the 
foreign cuckoo ’s brood. ’ ’ 

He went into his room and slammed the heavy iron-bound 
door after him, while Felix hurriedly gathered up his only in- 
heritance, the knife and fork, pl^c^ them in their case, and 
walked toward the door. 


CHAPTER IV. 

Like one stunned, he pushed back the bolt. The clock 
had struck six, and the hall was fllled with women and chil- 
dren, and they were pouring in at the gate, with their tin and 


88 IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOEllT. 

earthen vessels. A milkmaid had just entered with two foam* 
ing buckets of milk, and looked astonished to see the place 
vacant at the head of the milk-table — for the first time during 
her service on the Cloister estate, even on the days of the sena- 
tor’s wife’s death and funeral the place had been promptly 
filled the moment the milk was brought from the stables. 

Felix passed through the throng — -heretofore he had avoided 
the main stairway at this hour, and escaped the ‘‘ milk busi- 
ness ” by going up a dust-covered little back stairway. 

To-day he gazed absently over their heads, unheeding the 
greetings and nudging of the women, who .stared after the 
handsome young man, as he bounded up the creaking stairs — 
for the last time. Never would he return to that gloomy place, 
built by monks and inhabited for generations by the little- 
souled, heart-impoverished family who had made a coffin of it 
to fit their own souls, in which there was no room for an in- 
tellectual spark, and from which every modestly flighty pinion 
was rudely cut. His valise was up in the gable room. To get 
it and take the first train for Berlin was the only thing he' 
could decide on for the present, with his brain on fire arid his 
bosom raging so painfully. What the consequence would be, 
did not occur to him in the whirl of his emotions. He would 
see his friend Arnold at Schillingscourt and then return to 
Berlin. When he left there he was laboring under the excite- 
ment of the news that Mme. Fournier had made arrangements 
for Lucille’s debut. He realized that if she once entered upon 
a public career she would be lost to him, and. Lucille had her- 
self urged him to arrange his affairs and hasten to Vienna, 
where Mme. Fournier was giving entertainments just then, 
and come to some understanding with the lady in regard to 
their hopes; but in one short hour his plans had been wrecked. 

He pressed his hands in desperation to his temples as if that 
could restore the sanguine expectations so suddenly perished, 
and throw light upon his darkened pathway. He felt but too 
well the truth of what his uncle had said. His mother would 
never pardon the enthusiastic espousal of his father’s cause, 
much less forget how ruthlessly he had broken the silence in 
which he had cloaked his love and longing for his father all 
his life. But had she not met him with unfeeling and unyield- 
ing harshness — as always? He could not recall the time when 
she had ever reasoned with him in motherly tenderness, or in- 
terested herself in his childish troubles, or sympathized with 
his pleasures as mothers do, to enhance a joy, or soften a 
grief as with a caressing hand. Her training was a sharp com- 
mand — and how ready she was to disinherit her own child, 


39 


IN’ THE SCHILI.INGSaOURT. 

This readiness 'Vfas not tha resuit of momentary pique — she 
must have been thinking of it before. A dark suspicion crept 
serpent-like into the confiding nature and trusting heart of 
Felix ^ and clutched it like a demon. What if the Wolfram 
fanaticism of his mother had grown to such a degree that she 
welcomed this opportunity as an excuse to will her immense 
inheritance back to the family again 

He strode up and down the room as if chased b}^' evil spirits. 
Impossible! He felt disgraced to allow such horrible suspicions 
to enter his mind. He blushed at the ignoble spirit of resent- 
ment that had engendered it. There upon that open page 
was recorded the solicitude wdth which his mother had thought 
of his future. To be sure, that array of household linen was 
calculated only for a wife after Mrs. Lucianos own heart — the 
daughter of some eminent official, or the heiress of some 
wealthy merchant — still that detracted nothing from her kind- 
ly intentions. And there between the windows hung his por- 
trait — when she was busy sewing here she could look upon the 
face of her son whenever she lifted her eyes. Ho, her heart 
was not entirely void of affection, even though her prejudices 
and almost masculine severity made her appear cold and emo- 
tionless. 

Hesitatingly he reached for his satchel — he was prepared to 
go, but he waited and listened for a familiar footstep. As a 
matter of course he was going away never to return to the 
Cloister estate, but he confessed to himself with keenest sor- 
row that it was impossible for him to do so without telling his 
mother how he regretted his hasty words — he must see her 
once more, though she should accept his apology and farewell 
with contemptuous silence. 

The atmosphere had become sultry, the southern horizon 
had become darkly mottled, the threatening storm-clouds soon 
shut out the bright sky and foreshadowed an early nightfall. 

Silence reigned in the front yard. The main gate was 
closed, the arch above it was wreathed with the clover which 
had clung to the jagged stones as the heaped -up loads passed 
through. The rattling of the little portal had also ceased 
after the last customer had gone with his milk- jug — the 
chickens were safely housed and the pea-fowl and turkeys 
roosted quietly under their low roofs — only a few pigeons were 
still active near the edge of the well-curb taking a late bath. 

The shady avenues at Schillingscourt had also become quiet; 
the iron chairs and lounges had been divested of their gayly 
colored cushions and pillows, as the clouds gathered hea^y 
above the trees. 


40 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 

Quarter after quarter of tlie hour passed;, and still Felix 
paced the gahle-room floor. It seemed to him as if the^ house 
had never been so deathly still as now that he was listening for 
a sound with such an oppressed heart and racing pulses. He 
stepped to the window again and looked out — at last a move- 
ment in the hall, the draught of the opening door lifted a stray 
curl from his temple lightly, hut he did not turn, he dreaded 
to meet his mother^s angry face. 

A rustling as if a bird had fluttered in, permeating the air 
with the scent of roses, then a pair of soft, cool arms were laid 
about his neck, and the burning eyes of the waiting youth wore 
covered by a pair of tender, small hands. A paralyzing fright 
sent his blood curdling in his veins. 

“ Lucille he groaned, hoarsely. 

The pressing fingers fell from his eyes, and the sweetest 
little elf that ever met human sight clmig to his neck with 
merry laughter. But Felix also caught a glimpse at the door 
of the barn-yard nymph who had ushered in the visitor. 

My God, Lucille! what have you done?^’ 

The girlish arms retreated from his neck at this terrified ex- 
clamation, and the pretty oval face lengthened into grieved 
surprise. 

“ What have I done?^^ said she, poutingly. “ I We run 
away. Is that anything awful 

He made no reply, but looked anxiously toward the door. 
Heaven grant his mother would not come now. He felt as if 
his treasure, his idol, had wandered in a lion^s den. 

“ For goodness^ sake, Felix, don't stand there as if you had 
dropped your bread butter-side down!'’'’ the young lady re- 
marked, giving her hat an impatient tug, bringing it down over 
her forehead. ‘‘ Bah! the joke is a failure; I thought it 
would be more amusing. Weil, I donT care — she shrugged 
her shoulders — ‘‘ I can go back again if your highness donW 
want me.^^ 

‘‘No! oh, no!^^ Felix cried, clasping her in a rapturous 
embrace, and covering her face with passionate kisses. 

“ Pahl^^ She escaped his arms with a laugh, threw- hat and 
pocket-handkerchief upon the table, and flung back a long 
curl that had fallen over her face and bosom. “ There, now, 
you have come to your senses again, sweetheart,^'’ said she, 
gayly. “You ought to have been at our house yesterday — 
such a fuss! you canT imagine it. Mamma sent a dispatch 
stating she had sprained her ankle, and the manager had de- 
cided that I was to come at once and take her place. I was 
sitting on the balcony, feeding the parrot and myself on tho 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


41 

honbonniere you had brought me, when that telegram exploded, 
like a wicked bomb-shell, our domestic peace. The maids, and 
messengers, and cooks — everybody and everytHng — were 
thrown. into a state of flustration, and swarmed like disturbed 
ants in a sandhill. 

The des()ription wound up with a burst of melodious laughter, 
as she replaced the tiny gold watch that had beconie dislodged 
from her belt during the gesticulating scene. 

“ I wish you could have seen grandmamma,^-’ she continued; 

she has the neuralgia in her left leg again, and is obliged to 
stick to the fauteuU as if she were nailed there. You know 
what an imposing air she can assume; and when she begins to 
talk about her ancient and noble family, and the long-since 
moldering Marquis Eougerole, I am ready to die with fright. 
Sure enough, she began to enumerate the Gastons and Henris 
that would turn in their graves, and stamped the floor with 
her unimpaired foot, and declared mammae’s upper story was 
affected to permit me — the last of that noble race — to travel 
from pillar to post, with a stupid female like that maid of 
mine, Minna — and perhaps she is right, the girl added, with 
a roguish smile. With every indescribably graceful motion 
the costly bracelets on her arms clashed, and the silver-gray 
folds of her dress rustled, and the heavy perfume of roses she 
had brought into the room had long since absorbed that com- 
ing from the violet-scented linen presses. 

She paused and looked up into the young man^s face with 
her great starry eyes, in which a scintillating green vied with 
the hazel for color supremacy. He stood looking at her as if 
entranced: liis troubles, the old-fashioned apartment of his 
deadly estranged mother had vanished, he saw only the fair 
mercurial little being upon whose curly head the Graces had 
lavished ail their magic charms. She read the love intoxica- 
tion of his glance, and cast herself upon his breast. 

Foolish Felix/^ she murmured, playfully tweaking his 
ear. “ Now tell me what was the matter with you when I 
came? xind I came in all the pride of having carried out the 

f lorious idea of eloping — it was not such an easy matter either, 
can tell you, for I have inherited from mamma, in every 
nerve and pulse of my body to the very littlest toe, a quivering 
desire to float and glide and dance — and that before a thousand 
eyes and a thousand mustached lips crying at the top of their 
voices ‘ Bravo!’ — this was all very enticing, sweetheart.-” 

With a serpentine movement of hor slender body, she escaped 
his arms again; his blonde brows gathered with a frown, and 
she laughingly passed her hand over them. Grandmamm* 


42 


m THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


scolded about the dispatch/^ she quickly added, skipping the 
unpleasant situation in her story, glibly; “but she neverthe- 
less ordered my trunks to be packed at once — right there in 
the dining-room, under her supervison — then Minna and grand- 
mammae’s vinegar-faced maid dragged nearly everything in the 
dressing-room to the front — and, heavens! what a time there 
was! The stage-dresses were piled up mountain high, until 
grandmamma and her fauteuil disappeared on the other side, 
and nothing was to be seen of her but the yellow bow on her 
cap, that nodded and wriggled whenever she scolded or issued 
orders. Oh, Felix! how tempting those loads and loads of 
pretty things, that mamma had prepared for my stage ward- 
robe, looked, but when they fetched the Giselle costume in 
which I was to make my debut — oh, it is simply irresistible! — 
I — I — began to cry. Now donT speak — am I not over head 
and ears in love with you? So what did I do, but swallow my 
tears and laugh in my sleeve at Madame Lazare, nee De Eou- 
gerole, who was just then saying to my Minna, ‘ DonT you 
forget yourself, girl, and walk familiarly beside Mademoiselle 
Fournier while conducting her. to the cars! . You are to remain 
respectfully distant, and God grant I may not have to hear 
from those gossiping Vienna people that my grandchild 
traveled with but one attendant!’ Ha, ha, ha! those Vienna 
people ! And I had already determined to go to my darling — • 
and here I am! Minna is at the hotel with bag and baggage, 
frightened nearly out of her wits, in fear of mamma and grand- 
mamma. Will you send for her, Felix?” 

He started as if the roof had suddenly caved in. The fright- 
ful reality stared him in the face again. 

“ No, she must not come here; neither is this a place for 
you, Lucille. ” 

She gave a glance at the surroundings as he spoke, and 
clapped her hands in gleeful astonishment. 

“ Why, Felix, you must have got into your mother’s linen 
room!” she exclaimed. “ To tell you the truth, I’m not anx- 
ious to stay here either,” she added, peering timidly toward 
the darkly arched door, where the shadowless darkness had 
gathered. “ I’ve always been a little afraid of the Cloister 
estate. When you have been speaking of it, I would think 
of great marble pillars, arched halls and fountains — and now 
I am directed to this abominable nest with the declaration it is 
the Cloister estate. And, oh, Lord! the entrk, I nearly fell 
over a couple of buckets standing in the hall, that resounded 
with the squalling of a child, with a voice like a young rooster 
—the Wolfram hopeful, I suppose? The whole house smelled 


IK THE SCHTLLIK-GSCOUET. 


41 


of bacon. Bab! bacon! And the superb object that brougbfe 
me up here — she seemed to be a combination of porter, lackey 
and house-maid. She met me with an intellectual grin, and 
patted me on the back so comprehensively — ugh!^^ 

Two little wrinkles appeared on that glistening white fore- 
head, as she added, half in jest, and somewhat solicitously: 

One thing is certain, Felix, we must never let mamma and 
grandmamma come here. Gracious! what a time there would 
be; and those unhappy Eougeroles would never get done turn- 
ing in their graves. 

“ Be assured, Lucille, mamma and grandmamma shall never 
have occasion to visit us here,^’ Felix replied with a deep sigh; 
‘‘ come, we will leave here also.^'’ 

“ What, to-night? Without your mamma’s — ” 

“ My mother is not prepared to entertain visitors like your- 
self.” 

But, good Lord, I am not so difficult to please! You have 
said yourself that my appetite was like a bird’s — certainly I’d 
rather be excused from bacon indulgencies — but, Mrs. Wagner, 
our old cook, says a bit of aspic or mayonnaise, of which I am 
fond, is always to be found in the qarde-manqer of every gen- 
teel household. ” 

He compressed his lips, and without a word took the dainty 
straw hat from the table and placed it tenderly and carefully 
on the girl’s brown curls. 

Well, as you please,” she replied, fastening the hat with a 
gold pin. Are we going to the hotel?” 

“ No, I shall take you to our friend, Baron Arnold, at 
Schillingscourt. ” 

‘‘ Oh, that suits me ^lendidly, Felix. Baron Schilling is 
real nice. I like him. Shall I see his wife? I am dying with 
curiosity to see whether she is pretty — that is of the most im- 
portance to me, I’d have you know, sir. ” / 

She stood upon her tiptoes while speaking, trying to look 
into the extremely small looking-glass hanging between the 
windows, to see whether her hat was on decently,” but gave 
up the attempt with a dubious smile. 

“ Grandmamma was well acquainted with the papa of Baron- 
ess Schilling. She declared the young lady had been immured 
in a convent up to the time of her marriage.” 

“ Your grandmamma was right,” Felix said, drawing 
Lucille’s vdl over her face, until nothing of the pure, fair 
complexion was to be seen, and only the great glowing eyea 
shone like stars through tlie lace. 


44 


m THE SCHILLTKGSCOUET. 


“ Nowwe are ready, I guess/’ said she, reaching for her 
handkerchief on the table. 

Felix offered her his arm. 

“ My darling, he paused for an instant under the arch of 
the door as he spoke, do not speak until we are out of the 
house, and let us make as little noise as possible in going down- 
stairs.-’^ 

‘‘ And why, pray.^ We are not burglars, are we?’^ she 
queried, in surprise. Oh, I recollect — the child; is it sick?’’ 
No, dear, but very nervous. ” 

Ah! I understand. ” 

They passed into the hall. It would be impossible to de- 
scribe the young man’s emotions; his hands were spasmodically 
clutched, and his soul was prayerfully burdened with the hope 
that no detaining accident would bring Lucille and his mother 
face to face. 


CHAPTEE V. 

It had become quite dark. A ray from the kitchen lamp 
fell upon, the balusters with just sufficient light to display their 
horridly carved figures, and show through the open door the 
big black flue of a gaping fire-place in the background of a 
dungeon-like dark apartment they were obliged to pass. 

“ Great fathers, Felix! how can you live in this witch’s den !’ ’ 
Lucille whispered close to his ear, closing her eyes in terror. 
He pressed her arm in silence. His step was almost as light 
as that of his companion, but the boards sighed and creaked 
under his feet; but to his infinite satisfaction, he saw that the 
front hall was empty, and none of the doors open. In a mo- 
ment he would be released from this perplexing situation. 

But in that moment a dark object sprung suddenly, tiger- 
like, from a dark corner, and swept with awful rapidity past 
Lucille, and disappeared on the floor above. It was the great 
house cat who had been disturbed in his favorite nook while 
taking his evening nap. Lucille gave one shrill scream, and, 
tearing herself from Felix’s arm, ran like mad down the stairs. 

Several doors opened at once. In one appeared the nurse 
with her charge, a couple of milkmaids’ heads appeared at 
the kitchen door, and on the threshold of the senator’s room 
stood Mrs. Lucian with the light of a lamp shining full upon 
her. 

What is the matter?” she inquired, in her usual imperiouj 
tones. 


IK THE SCHILLINGSCOUKT. 


45 


^ FeHx had rushed after Lucille, and now held the trembling 
girl in his arms. 

“ Compose yourself, dear; how can you be so terrified by a 
eat?^^ 

“A cat — oh! You can’t make me believe that!” she 
brokenly retorted, almost crying with vexation. ‘‘ This 
abominable cloister! I tell you it is the spirit of some old 
monk trying to scare me to death!” 

The kitchen-maids giggled, and the nurse approached boldly 
to get a better view of the frightened lady; this encouraged the 
other servants to do the same. But such impudent behavior 
was more than Mrs. Lucian could endure. With swift step 
she approached the women, pushed them into the kitchen and 
closed the door. ‘‘And you go back where you belong. 
Trine!” and without more ado she took the brazenly unbudg- 
ing female by the shoulders, and marched her back to' the 
room she had left, and thus cleared the hall. 

“ Now, make an end to this scandal!” She looked at her 
son, and pointed to the front door. 

Then only Felix observed the deathly pallor of her face, 
that seemed to have petrified with an expression of .pain and 
wrath. It shocked him to the heart’s core. 

“ Mamma!” he cried, pleadingly. 

“What, Felix, is that your mamma?” asked Lucille, dis- 
engaging herself from his arms, and looking with great, sur- 
prised eyes at the woman, over whose white brow a magnificent 
brown braid of hair formed a diadem, who was dressed elegant- 
ly, and whose bearing was as queenly as she was beautiful. 
“ Why, Felix, I am quite angry with you for never telling me 
what a pretty mamma you have. I always fancied you with a 
humped back, and a monstrous cap on your head ” — a ripple 
of laughter accompanied the words — she had forgotten the 
phantom monk. “Why, you look very different : quite pre- 
sentable, and stylish even, and here Felix has just been trying 
to make me believe you were not prepared to entertain a visitor 
like me.” 

“ He has told you strickly true, miss,” the lady replied, 
icily, and turning from her abruptly, she said to her son, with 
a meaning inclination of the head toward Lucille: “ There, 
you have an illustration of what I told you to-day. I was 
tempted to use my prerogative in no gentle nianner,* when in-* 
formed of the presence of an uninvited guest in my room, but 
I thought that a man with any sense of honor, who places a 
proper value upon the proprieties of life, and thinks a woman’s 
reputation ought to be above reproach, would surely have hid 


46 


m THE SCHILLIHGSCOURT. 


eyes opened by such unprecedented boldness. It’s to be hoped 
you are permanently cured now. Go; and if you return to me 
alo7te then all will be forgiven and forgotten. ” 

The last words were spoken excitedly, and the commanding 
voice had in it a ring that was not familiar to Felix — the 
pleading accents of an anxious mother’s heart. 

In the meantime Lucille had vainly tried to remove her 
veil, but the golden net-pin had caught it and held her face 
prisoner. She felt a burning desire to let this imperious 
woman, with her solemn, serious visage, see how pretty she 
was; and thus engaged she paid but little heed to the harsh 
words uttered, and had she heard them she would not have 
comprehended their nature. How was she, the petted, the 
idolized, before whom the aristocratic guests at her mother’s 
house bent the knee; she, the favorite of fortune; at whose 
bidding everybody moved, whose very dreams were guarded 
and colored by the pink satin drapery of her couch at home — 
how was she to understand that she had met with failure and 
humiliation here in this common country-house, among such 
mean surroundings? But when Mrs. Lucian spoke of pardon- 
ing Felix she suddenly ceased to trouble the resisting veil, and 
placing her hand lovingly in her companion’s arm, nestled 
close to his tall form like some fond kitten. 

What crime has my Felix been guilty of that you are 
willing to forgive and forget?” she asked. “ And he is to re- 
turn alone? That is not possible, madame. He is going to 
take me to Schillingscourt; and you ought to know that I 
can’t be left alone there in a strange house.” Here the super- 
cilious blood of the spoiled little beauty betrayed itself in the 
erection of her lovely curly head. “ And I will not have it 
either, because time is precious, and we must be married at 
once — no matter in what church, whether here or in England, 
so that it is done, and we can present ourselves to mamma as 
man and wife. Then her objections will come too late. ” 

A coarse roar of laughter caused her to start affrighted. 
She had not observed the senator, who had witnessed the scene 
from his room, with intense interest, and now made his ap- 
pearance. With one foot on the door-sill, his arms crossed 
upon his breast the expression of the echoing laughter still 
upon his slender but intellectual face, he stood there, pre- 
eminently diabolical, as if he were laughing to scorn the folly 
of all creation. 

“ Come, come, let us go,” said Lmcille, clinging to Felix’s 
arm, but Mrs. Lucian motioned for her to we\t^ The aotloa 


IN THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 47 

Vras quiet and commanding, but the flashing eyes told of an 
inward storm. 

I have one question to ask/^ said she, as if it was painful 
to conquer her aversion long enough to speak to the girl; is 
this ignorance affected, or do you really believe that Madame 
Fournier is the only one who has the right to object?^' 

“And pray who else?^’ was Lucille’s astounding query. 
“ Papa and mamma are legally separated, and Monsieur Four- 
nier has no claims upon me at all; besides, I should not obey 
him — he does not deserve consideration — he deserted mamma. ” 
“ Classically dramatic naivete!” came sarcastically from the 
senator’s room, but Mrs. Lucian turned away as if tliis dainty, 
sylph-like creature had struck her in the face with her little 
fist. 

“Forgive, mamma, and farewell!” Felix exclaimed, in 
trembling tones, but determined. He feared another mo- 
ment’s delay would result in a more calamitous j)arting. 

“ Well, Mr. Attorney, sailing direct into matrimony?” 
Felix paid no attention to the mocking of his uncle; with a 
sad smile the extended hand his mother had ignored was with- 
drawn. 

“ Look at me!” she commanded. This “ look at me!” was 
the form of coaxing used when called to account for poetry- 
writing and indulging in the forbidden glory of “ play-acting ” 
with other boys in the old days at Schillingscourt, and the 
phrase comes involuntarily to her lips now. “ Look at me, 
Felix, and ask yourself whether you would dare to ask me — 
me to receive as your wife a woman who — ” 

“ Stop, mamma! I will not have a hair of her head wronged, 
nor subject her to insults that would poison her innocent 
heart.” Felix spoke earnestly, and laid his hand protectlngly 
upon her curly head, as she leaned against him, casting fright- 
ened glances into the senator’s gloomy room. 

Mrs. Lucian started. A mother’s natural jealousy was 
mingled with the wounded self-love of a selfish nature that 
demanded of her son “ Thou shalt have no other God but 
me.” It was no longer the “dancing-woman’s child” she 
persecuted, but the womanly being resting on her son’s bosom. 
Heretofore she had never thought of the effect a son’s choice 
might have upon her. And now her soul made war and 
stormed furiously, and she knew that every crack and door 
had a listener — that every key-hole was covered by inquisitive 
e3^es, and still she let her anger have its say, knowing that 
every word would be carried abroad by to-morrow on the gos- 
siping tongues of the servants. 


48 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUKT. 


“ This is gratitude!^’ she cried, with quivering lips. ** This 
is the way a mother is forsaken. With such an example, a 
woman may well wish her child had never been born! Was it 
for this I watched over you in sickness, and had the trouble 
and care of bringing you to manhood? To sacrifice myself, 
and then be put aside for the first creature, barely out of short 
clothes, that comes along! If there is one spark of gratitude 
or justice in your heart you will cling to me — I want no 
daughter !^^ 

Felix gazed at his indignant mother in surprise. This sud- 
den outburst of rage, her ungenerous reproaches, and the 
manner in which she lay claim to him, body and soul, re- 
minded him of his lost father. The boundless egotism of this 
woman must have caused the separation. This conviction 
stilled his power of resistance. 

Your appeal to my duty as a son is harder to resist than 
if you had asked me to show my gratitude by having my eyes 
put out. 

“ All talk!^^ she cried out. 

“ Can you expect me to choose between you, when it has 
long since been decided?^ ^ Felix continued, as if the mocking 
slur had not been uttered. Lucille has placed herself under 
my protection, and before God and man it has become my 
duty to stand by her. Or would you have me become a 
scoundrel, who cast out a loving, trusting girl, and purchased 
thereby the privilege of a mother’s roof for himself? Mother!” 
he added, pleadingly, “ if you refuse to receive her, you lose 
your son.” 

Better no child than a degenerate one.” 

Why, Felix, how can you submit to such abuse?” Lucille 
exclaimed, no longer clinging helplessly to her protector’s 
arm, but head crested, resolute, and on the defensive. 
“ Madame, you are a heartless woman.” 

Lucille!” The young man endeavored to draw her to 
him, to quiet her. 

“ No, Felix — let me speak!” she said, pushing his hands 
away. ‘‘It is really too funny — incredible almost; but I see 
with my own eyes and hear with my own ears, so it must be 
true. Madame, you absolutely act as if I ought to feel myself 
highly honored to be received here! Great heavens! In this 
house! Why, if you offered me the treasures of the universe I 
would not stay with you!” She pulled her hat savagely over 
her face, thus causing the diamond bracelets to glisten and 
, sparkle in the lamp-light. “ You called me a creature just 
HOW. Beally, madame^ but such language is never used in 


IN TSE SCHILLINGSCOURT» 


49 

my home, not to the meanest dish-washers. Thank the good 
Lord my grandmamma does not see me in this situation; I 
fancy she would soon give you to understan(^ who was the 
condescending party. 

Mrs. Lucian stared at the girl in speechless amazement, the 
senator hurst into a loud laugh. 

‘‘ Oh, laugh, sir, if it affords j^ou pleasure,^'’ the, young lady 
retorted, ‘‘but Mrs. Lucian is nevertheless the loser. Felix 
belongs to me, we shall never be parted again. 

“ Hush, Lucille, Felix said, drawin'g her arm firmly 
through his own. “ Mamma, you have provoked this some- 
what inelegant attack by your unkind treatment. ^ ^ 

“ Then let her go, this theater princess 

“Not without me — come, my child. 

Mrs. Lucian lifted her arms, and her glance rested on her 
brother as if seeking help there. 

“ Let ^em go! no loss to you; they are not worth a charge 
of gunpowder, either of ^em!^^ was the brutal and scornful 
advice of the senator. 

She stepped back and cleared the way, as if the coarse ver- 
dict had restored her senses, and with them the cold, unfeeling 
exterior. Pointing sternly to the door, she said: 

“ Go where and with whom you please, but be sure and 
make the distance between us wide. For I never wish to see 
ypu again. Never! not even after death. Away with you!^^ 
Without looking back she hastened up the stairs, and the door 
to the senator's room was shut with a bang. 

“ Thank God we have got the murderous den behind us, '^ 
Lucille exclaimed, as Felix led her, mute and breathing heavi- 
ly, through the yard toward the gate. Her childishly ringing 
voice still trembled with anger, and her little hand was clinched 
threateningly, but the next instant she had cowered close to 
Felix again — for they were not yet out of the “ murderous 
den — and the skeleton arm of some expiating monk might 
reach them and lay his cold hand upon her neck. Between 
them and the open street stood that dark wall, and on either 
Ride crouched shadowy figures beneath the trees. The glisten- 
ing rivulet ran its course from the well-spring like a knife 
flashing and cutting along the earth. Lucille even fancied she 
heard whispering among the trees; then the little portal clat- 
tered and rattled shut, and she breathed freely as she halted 
for a moment in the open street. 

“Ugh! What abominable people!’^ she exclaimed with 
relief, and, as if determined to dispose of the disugreeable im- 


50 


TK THE SOHILLTNOSCOrRT. / 

pression with the cloister dust clinging to her garments/ she 
gave her willowy figure a vigorous shake. 

“ Poor Felix, you have been brought up in a regular house 
of correction,'’ she added, dubiously sympathetic. “ Nice 
relations — excuse me for saying so. She calls herself mother, 
and that horrid being, who, like Samuel in ^ Freischutz,’ 
laughed so Satan-like between the scenes — ” 

^‘It’s my uncle, Lucille,’’ Felix interposed, impressively, 
hut in a voice still unsteady with excitement. 

“ Oh, fudge!” she retorted, impatiently; “ I’m much obliged 
to you for such an uncle! You are entirely too good-natured, 
Felix. You have let them domineer over you all your life, 
and now they won’t even let. you get married. Your lady- 
mamma expects you to establish yourself as bachelor in the 
house, and for the rest of your natural life devote yourself to 
holding her yarn and helir clean vegetables. x\h, my lady, 
that’s the time j^ou reckoned without — me! What a proud 
woman she is; probably because she is still handsome. Bah, 
w^hat’s the good at her age! For she is old — old as mamma, 
and she has been covering the wrinkles in her skin with the 
powder-puff this long time. The principal thing in life is to 
be young — and we are young, aren’t we, Felix? and that is 
what makes the old people mad.” 

He did not answer. The silvery tones with their roguish 
chatter, that usually held him enchained as if they were sweet- 
est melodies, had no power to arouse him from the profound 
sorrow occasioned by the distressing scene between himself and 
mother, and the perplexing question, what to do next. 

The rain began to fall, and the first lamps at the end of the 
street had just been lighted; but through the darkness, the 
winding paths, the great beds of glowing peonys bordering the 
lawn, the beautiful fountain with its silver sprays, could be 
seen behind the iron railings inclosing the facade of the Italian 
liouse, Schillingscourt. 

The enfree here was a little difierent from that at the 
Cloister House. The aristocratic quiet and elegance of a 
Venetian villa or Florentine palace reigned here. The iron 
gate turned silently on its hinges, the singing of the fountain 
waters, and the pattering of the rain-drops on the leaves could 
be distinctly heard, as the sound was broken by the trail of 
Lucille' s dress sweeping over the graveled path. 

The young lady felt herself one© more in her native element. 
The silent man at her side walked too slow; she could have 
down in her eagerness to touch a carpeted floor and inhale re- 


UN THE SCHILLIKGSCOUEI'. 


fined air again. When saddenlyher footsteps slipped. Under 
a group of silver-leafed firs cowered a little girl. 

A\ hat are you doing there, child Lucille asked. 

There was no reply. 

Felix bent over the little thing, who retreated still into the 
shrub, and recognized Adames little daughter. 

“ Is that you. Henna? Is your father back again?’"’ 

I don’t know,” was the mournful, tear-choked answer. 

Did he fetch you here?” 

^ ‘‘ No, I ran away.” The heavy breathing and sobbing con- 
tinued. ‘‘Grandmother don’t understand. She says I’m 
foolish and wicked to think such things about my father. ” 

“ What things, child?” Lucille asked. 

The girl sobbed aloud, but did not answer. 

“ Well, Henna, your grandmother may know best,” Felix 
remarked, consolingly. “ Has your father gone out?” 

“ Yes, and he was so red — grandmother scolded him because 
he was sent away from here— then he only said he had a head- 
ache, and was going to the drug-store to get something for it. 
And I wanted to go along ” — she began to cry still more 
piteously — “ and then— grandmother — she wouldn’t let me, 
and — and got mad and took away my shoes and stockings,” 
she concluded, with a wail. 

“ And you ran away in disobedience, and bare-footed?” 
asked Felix. 

“ I only went to the drug-store,” said she, evading the 
direct question, and trying to hide her feet under the short 
dress; ‘‘ but they said father hadn’t been there at all.” 

“ He very likely went to some other one, then; so you liad 
better go home. Henna. He may be there now, wondering 
where you are. ” 

The child turned her face angrily away, but never moved. 
These people were like her grandmother, they “ didn’t under- 
stand” either, and now they questioned and bothered her.' 
“ The porter always comes by here at this time,” she said, in 
tones betraying obstinate determination. “ He liked my father 
and will help me find him.” 

“ But it is going to storm — see, it is raining now,” Lucille 
exclaimed, laughing, as the girl maintained her position and 
quietly wrapped her apron around her bare arms. “ What a 
stubborn little thing it is! Here, wrap this around you,” said 
she, throwing down a cr4pe de Chine shawl she had carelessly 
worn across her left shoulder; but the girl, without touchii% 
it, merely glanced at the expensive soft white drapery partly 
covering her little red frock and spread over the gravel path 


52 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT^ " 

where the rain-drops were already gprlnkling it. Lucille gath* 
ered up her dress and ran tow^a the house, laughingly de» 
daring she had no intention to appear at Schillingscourt as a 
dripping sea nymph. 


CHAPTEE VI. 

Felix rang the bell. The great arched door opened noise- 
lessly. Formerly the hall was lighted by the simple flame of 
a plain oil lamp with its glass globe, the rays barely strong 
enough to reach the entrance of the side corridors or reflecting 
the highly polished mosaic floor, but this evening he was daz- 
zled by the glare of light from the tulip globes of the superb 
chandelier held and supported by solemnly beautiful female 
faces; and solemnly dignified sounded the echoing steps of the 
servant. Felix hesitated a moment. The necessarily plain 
but cheerful household arrangement that had attracted him to 
Schillingscourt had been utterly changed, and assumed the 
aristocratic air that belonged to the pristine barons of Schil- 
lingscourt. 

“■ Is Baron Arnold von Schilling at home?^^ 

Yes, Felix came in ringing masculine tones from an 
opening door, but the speaker started back in alarm as Lucille 
bounded toward him. 

“Oh, cher baron, what a comical face you put on!^^ she 
laughed. “Just like Felix; he stood staring at me, too — like 
Lot's wife. " 

Her voice resounded from the polished marble walls like 
flute notes — and again she began to tug at the obstinately 
clinging veil, patting her foot emphatically in the meanwhile. 
“ There!" off it came in tatters, and the charming face with 
its piquant expression appeared fresh and sweet as a tea- 
rosebud. 

“ I have no ‘ regards ' to deliver from mamma and grand- 
mamma, for" — she placed her hand over her mouth — those 
re-echoing walls must not be told of that naughty trick — “I 
have run away, be pleased to know." 

Baron Schilling gazed with questioning perplexity over her 
head into his friend's pale and troubled face. 

“ Can I speak to you and your father alone for half an 
hour?" Felix asked, in a hurried and oppressed manner. 

“ Come, papa is in his room," said Arnold, turning to lead 
the way to his father's apartments. 

Felix hesitated. “Will you not take Lucille to your wiff 
first?" 


iH THE SCHILLINGSCOUET. 


53 


To my wife?^^ — the question contained surprise and em- 
barrassment, but quickly resolved, he added: “ To please you, 
yes, Felix — comeri’ 

Lucille tucked the remains of her veil into her pocket, shook 
back her curls, and placed her hand confidingly within the 
baron^s offered arm. He led them toward the corridor — or 
rather gallery, from its expansive dimensions so entitled — to 
the left and southern side of the house, where a broad, elegant 
winding stairway led to the second-floor. Between the arched 
windows that opened like doors to the floor were deep niches, 
wherein Pater Ambrosius, the Benedictine monk, had placed, 
with aesthetic rapture, undraped marble statues of Grecian 
deities. Later the idea had been completed, when the im- 
posing arch leading into the cloister had been walled up and be- 
fore it was placed a marble group. Behind these marble bodies, 
on the other side of the wall, were ranged those boards on 
which stood the tin box containing the dairy receipts. Lucille 
skimmed past these figures and goddesses as if she were 
winged. She felt as if she were going through the aisles and 
galleries of a grand opera house, and Felix thought how, but 
a short time ago, he had been cast out from home into a dark 
and uncertain existence, into which he was dragging this child 
of luxury, this elfish little mortal that he worshiped so. 

Baron Schilling directed his steps toward the so-called 
“ family-room at the end of the gallery. It had ever been 
the favorite resort of the old baron^s, and notwithstanding its 
salon-like immensity, had a cozy, cheerful air; the open rafters 
overhead were curiously carved, and the wooden landscape 
carving on the walls reached the ceiling, and left but little of 
the gray-tinted original wall, like deep-seated panels, between 
them. These carvings were in relief, and lay like artistically 
connected arabesques upon a smooth background. They were 
considered valuable works of art and carefully guarded. 

The old baron had studied his comfort more than the 
originality of the room in fitting it up. He had hung a few 
game-pieces on the walls between the carvings, and supplied it 
with a set of comfortably upholstered modern furniture. But 
with the advent of the new mistress at Schillingscourt this had 
also been changed. The bare spaces in the wall had been 
frescoed; high-backed chairs and fancy ottomans, cushioned in 
pale-green silver-carded silk; the windows were draped with 
the same material, over which flowed soft curtains of ancient 
Hetherland lace, the pattern beautifully brought out by the 
green brocade under it But on each side of the door stood 
lugh-backed sideboards, displaying the family treasmes. They 


54 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUBr. 

spoke loudly of the wealth the young wife had brought to the 
Schillings. They were so loaded down with gold and silver 
plate and cut-glass ware that even the table-ware that the 
wealthy Benedictine abbe set before his princely guests would 
have been cast into the shade in comparison. 

From one of the rafters was suspended a dimly burning 
lamp that shed a soft light over the apartment; but on the 
little table, beside which the young wife was seated, stood a 
globe lamp, the light of which fell full upon her blonde head 
as she bent over her sewing. 

Lucille^s lips curled disdainfully, for the face that was lifted 
and turned toward them now was the most expressionless she 
had ever seen. Her hair was gray, blonde and gray her com- 
plexion, not a graceful curve in the long, thin face — and this 
lady was said to be not twenty years old. 

‘‘ Clementine, dear, this is my friend, Felix Lucian, and his 
fiancee, Mademoiselle Fournier, from Berlin,^’ said the young 
baron, with a peculiar, to him, polite nonchalance. I place 
the young lady in your charge while we call on papa in his 
room.^'’ 

The baroness partly rose and acknowledged the introduction 
with a slight bow. Her blonde-fringed eyes rested a moment 
on the charming face of the young girl, then the cold smile 
vanished from her lips, and, sinking back in her chair, she 
motioned for Lucille to take an ottoman standing near. 

Baron Schilling stooped to pick up a portfolio lying on the 
carpet, and, with a flushing face, collected some leaves belong- 
ing to it, scattered about the floor. 

I see my sketches have found no favor in your eyes,'’^ he 
remarked, replacing the leaves. 

‘^Pardon! The absorbing study required to catch your 
ideas makes me nervous when I am alone. Her voice was 
not unpleasant, but just now there was reproach in it. ‘‘I 
am unable to understand them at all, unless you are by to ex- 
plain. 

Or perhaps if I write under them, like another unfortunate 
bungler heard of, ‘ This is a hen,.^ laughed the baron, evi- 
dently amused. “ Do you see, Felii, how effective my designs 
are? Yet you always insisted I possessed talent. But let us 
be going if you would see papa before tea.^^ 

On leaving the room Felix cast an anxious glance upon hia 
darling, who, in the unmistakable triumph of beauty, sat un- 
concerned beside the singularly shado\^ woman that was so 
coldly reserved. Lucille was coolly removing her hat, and th« 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOUET. 


55 


other lady reached for her embroidery with her long, ivory-like 
fingers. 

“Permit me, madame,” said Lucille, flinging her hat to- 
ward a neighboring ottoman. 

The baroness watched with polite astonishment as the long- 
plumed article described a circle in the air and landed on the 
floor. At this moment there was a rustling of one of the 
brocade window-curtains, and a little monkey slipped out and 
grabbed the hat. 

Lucille gave a little shriek. The creature looked like some 
black imp. 

“ Come here, Minka,^^ the baroness commanded, with 
threatening finger. Minka held the hat over her head with 
both arms and obeyed her mistress. This was too much for 
Lucille^s risibility. She forgot her fright and began to laugh 
like a merry child; but not a feature in the ashen-colored face 
beside her moved. 

“ I am sorry the animal frightened you,^’ she said, placing 
the hat on the table before the girl. “ My husband dislikes 
Minka, and she knows it, and generally hides while he is in 
the room.^^ 

“ Oh, a little scare like that donT affect me. I am young 
and healthy; not nervous like mamma, was the hearty reply, 
as Lucille tried to coax the monkey to her. 

Yes, young, healthy and bewitchingly lovely was the young 
girl the gray eyes of the baroness were covertly watching. 

“ I was far more alarmed at the Cloister House awhile ago, 
when a monstrous thing sprung past me in the dark — ^Felix 
declared it was a cat. 

“ You are a visitor at the Cloister estate?'’^ 

“ God forUd Lucille exclaimed, with protesting hands. 
“ It makes my blood curdle even to think of being obliged to 
stay in such a place overnight! Have you ever been over?^^ 

The baroness shook her head. “lam not in the habit of 
cultivating neighborly intercourse. 

“ Then certainly you can form no idea of the place. It^s a 
puzzle to me how Felix has endured living in those rooms, 
among furniture that must have been made in the year one, 
that our servants wouldnT have as a gift. I suppose the bed- 
clothes are coarse enough to match. Oh, what a dear Little 
thing it is!^^ she exclaimed, as the monkey jumped into her 
lap and wound its arms around her neck in an almost human 
manner; then she ,took off one of her elegant bracelets and 
fastened it about the monkey thin neck, pinned her lace 
handkerchief across its shoulders, and lauglxed like mad when 


5G IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOUET. 

the little creature bounded to the floor and began tearing the 
lace with its teeth and clawing at its unaccustomed necklace 
savagely. 

With displeasure displayed in look and manner, the baroness 
removed the articles from the struggling creature, and placing 
the bracelet beside the hat on the table, said: ‘‘I fear it is 
ruined. 

Pshaw! what of it? It is a present from Prince Kousky, 
and I can^t bear him!^'’ 

The baroness looked up startled. ‘‘lam acquainted with 
Prince Kousky. Does he visit your parents often 

“ Oh, yes, he comes daily — to see mamma — for papa lives 
in Petersburg. Le grande mere dotes on him, because his 
presence adds luster to our receptions. But mamma donT 
care much for him, he is such an old fop, you know. He 
feeds me like a baby, with bonbons, and he smothers mamma 
with flowers literally — mornings after the entertainment. 

“ When?^'’ queried the baroness, as if she had not heard 
aright. 

“ Good heavens! — after the entertainment. DonT you know? 
DidnT my name strike yqu?^^ Lucille asked, merrily, “ or have 
you never been to Berlin ?^^ 

“ I have been there. 

“ Then it seems incredible that you should not know, mam- 
ma, the celebrated danseuse Manon Fournier — 

“ Indeed !^^ was the laconic word that cut short the lively 
speech. As the baroness quickly folded her work, a slight 
color rose to her cheeks, and she avoided Lucille^s eyes. “ I 
rarely visit the theater, said she, going to the table that stood 
rmder the hanging lamp, prepared for supper, and glittering 
with its tea-table splendor. 

“ Heavens, the length of her!^^ was the astounded expression 
of Lucille^s glance as it followed the movements of the tall 
angular figure. The comfortable dust-colored house-dress 
bagged over the flat bosom, and swept from the narrow round 
shoulders down to the floor in a long train behind. But not- 
withstanding her long arms and languid manner, she presided 
with graceful elegance at the table. She lighted the" alcohol 
burner under the silver tea-pot, and carefully counted the cups 
before her, measuring guardedly the exact quantity required 
for each cup, but not another look did she deign to cast upon 
the young girl. 

“ That is my duty at home, generally,^’ the chatty young 
lady gossiped, while playing with the again reconciled Minka. 


m THE schillihgscouht. 5^ 

** Everybody praises my tea but Baron Schilling; he is the 
most difficult of all tea-drinkers to please/^ 

The gray-blonde head was suddenly erected. 

‘‘Was my husband a frequenter at your house 
“ Oh, my, yes! DidiiT you know it? Felix always said the 
baron found his subjects for artistic study in mammals parlors. 
We have a great many pretty and interesting lady friends — he 
painted mammals picture — 

“ Did you say he painted the Dancer Fournier 
A light began to dawn in Miss Lucille’s mind. The woman’s 
voice indicated something of the sensation raging in that sunk- 
en breast — the cutting contempt with which the words “ Dan- 
cer Fournier ” were spoken; and the dishes began to clatter 
under those long hands as if the next movement would hurl 
them to the floor. The idea of that cadaverously hateful per- 
son being jealous! Lucille’s eyes scintillated green and 
sparkled with mischief not unmixed with malice. She rose, 
smilingly smoothed the folds of her dress, and approached the 
table, causing the unapproachable cold baroness to sink fur- 
ther back in her chair. 

“ Is it, then, anything remarkable that Baron Schilling 
should want to paint a pretty woman?” Lucille asked, show- 
ing the glistening little teeth between the laughing rosy lips. 
“ They say mamma is highly distinguished looking. She is 
neither colorless blonde, nor tall and angular. Her hair is 
superbly black, and her arms and neck are celebrated among 
artists for their perfect outlines. Baron Schilling did not 
paint her in one of her own characters, but as Desdemona. 
Gh! it is simply soul-thrilling to see the way the white satin 
falls away from one shoulder as the arm is lifted from the 
harp. 

She paused as she thought of the disdainful manner in which 
the portfolio of sketches had been thrown aside. It suggested 
an idea; then she continued with inward delight as she noted 
the growing uneasiness of the baroness: 

“ Baron Schilling paints beautifully. Professor W says 

he is no dilettante. He possesses talents that will make him 
famous. ” 

The- baroness leaned back in her chair silently, her eyes cov- 
ered with one hand. She was certainly an obstinate, nervous 
being, an only child, indulged by a doting father, and petted 
and humored as a wealthy heiress by the sisters in her convent 
school. Lucille, in the consciousness of her perfect health 
and beauty, looked down upon the weakly, unlovely woman 
whose thin lips never smiled, with contempt. What did this 


58 


IK THE SCHtLLlKGgOOURT. 


disagreeable person want in the world? She ought to have 
remained comfortably immured in her convent and taken the 
veil. 

The sileuce was oppressive — the steaming tea-pot began to 
sing, and the rain beat down outside. Lucille parted the 
window-curtain to look out, and did not observe the angrj 
gray eyes that followed her movement. She was growing 
impatient and vexed with Felix, for leaving her alone so long 
with the unsocial mistress of Schillingscourt, whose dress was 
buttoned so closely to the throat under the closely compressed 
mouth. Just as she parted the curtains, a blinding flash of 
lightning quivered over the parterre and filled the room, en- 
circled the lamp globe, followed by a terrible clap of thunder 
that made the earth tremble, and brought the rain down in 
streams, beating against the windows as if it were going to 
tear the panes out and swamp the house. 

The baronesss started up, trembling in every limb, and rang 
the table-bell furiously. A servant entered. 

“ Request the gentlemen to come to tea at once."^^ 

There was no tremor in her voice. 


CHAPTER VII. 

Mascultke footsteps were heard approaching slowly along 
the corridor. Minka, who had cuddled herself in the folds of 
her mistress^’s dress at the sound of thunder, skipped, hurriedly 
and grimacing, back to her retreat behind the curtain. The 
hands of the baroness were busy with the tea-pot. Lucille 
turned from the window. She did not mind the elements, 
however timidly superstitious she was in regard to shadows and 
ghosts — the clashing element and fury of nature only 
“amused” her; the more violent, the better she liked it. 
Ruin, death and annihilation could not touch her. She re- 
mained standing before the curtain. She could not have ap- 
peared to better advantage, the pretty curly headed elf, than 
upon this softly picturesque background of flowing brocade 
and lace. Baron Krafft von Schilling entered the door held 
open by a servant, leaning heavily upon Felix Lucianos arm. 
One leg was lamed from a stroke of paralysis, but he presented 
a splendid appearance, with his full broad shoulders, and 
fresh, spirited face glowing with life and mirth. 

“Zounds! The little runaway would have been lost, too, 
Felix,” he exclaimed, gazing with undisguised admiration at 
Lucille, and stroking his mustache. “ A charming child — 
enchanting little witch!” 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


59 


This open flattery — the very tones of the clear masculine 
voice — restored Lucille^s good-humor. Like a snow-flake she 
whirled across the carpet and made the old gentleman a 
roguish little courtesy. 

He looked at her in unbounded delight. 

“ It has been a long while since Schillingscourt harbored 
such a rare little bird. It refreshes the sight and heart of an 
old fellow like myself. Well, you have come to the right 
nest. We’ll see about it — have courage!” 

He turned to the tea-table. Now, do tell, Clementine, 
why you sent for us in such a hurry; is the house on fire — or 
did the storm scare you? There^s no danger, we have a light- 
ning rod on the house.” This was said in a droll and jovial 
manner, but something in his face protested decidedly against 
the lady’s command. 

She poured out the tea, glanced rapidly at the old-fashioned 
clock opposite, and replied: “It is our supper-time — not a 
moment sooner. ” 

He drew his gray bushy brows together with a scowl, saying: 
“ Very well, my child, an old soldier like myself appreciates 
punctuality; but I have never been drilled to obey domestic 
orders — not even by my wife. And that thing there ” — he 
pointed to the clock — “ is not going to tyrannize over me — 
particularly when I am engaged — understand, young lady?” 

Slowly he sunk into a high-backed arm-chair at the table, 
and motioned Lucille to be seated on an ottoman at his side. 
Not until then did the baroness touch the bell and order plates 
for her guests, thus plainly showing her inhospitable inten- 
tions. 

Baron Schilling sat next to his wife, his father opposite, and 
father and son resembled each other very much. Like all the 
Schillings, they were not remarkable for beauty. Up in the 
middle hall, over the portal of the “ Pillar House,” hung the 
portraits of the Schillings, when, in centuries back, they 
flourished in their ancestral castles. There they presented the 
heavy red lower lip, the square forehead, and the characteristic 
German “ Schillings’ nose.” They were strong heads on mas- 
sive forms, that seemed born to battle and conquer. The two 
last Schillings belonged to them in every respect, only the 
bristling, bushy hair of the old baron was nearly white, while 
his son’s hair and beard waved soft and dark-brown as any 
southerner’s. The proudly glowing dark-blue eagle glance in 
the portraits was repeated in the living; the father’s sparkle/ 
with passion and humor, roving over all creation; the son’^ 
downcast and introverted. 


60 








IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOTJKT. 


His wife passed him his tea. He looked into her face an 
instant; then, taking her hand in his own, he said, tenderly: 

‘‘This storm has affected you, Clementine; you are not 
well?^'’ 

She withdrew her hand and set down the cup, turning her 
head away with aversion. 

“ I am faint; you have that intolerable paint-and-oil smell 
of your so-called ‘ atelier about you again. 

The old gentleman grew dark-red in the face. 

“ H^m — Clementine, may this despised ‘ so-called ^ be de^ 
fined as ‘ ridiculous dilletante presumption?^ he asked, sharp- 
ly, supporting the bent-forward, challenging attitude of his 
body with a hand on each arm of his chair. 

“ You misunderstood Clementine, papa. She merely in- 
tended to signify my rather mean little work-room at the top 
of the house, with its hastily improvised sky-light,^'’ his son re- 
plied, looking fixedly and proudly into his wife^s face. She 
answered the look with a curl of the lip, and shook her head, 
as if determined not to have an iota of the sense of her words 
changed. It was astonishing to see how suddenly the limpid, 
languid manner of this seemingly unenergetic, nun-like being 
could be transformed in every muscle to obstinate self-will. 

“ There, Arnold!^'’ laughed the old baron; “now set your- 
self up again against a woman^s prejudice, will you? Oh, 
my!^^ he clutched at his hair in comic desperation. “ But see, 
Clementine, I was quite as bad as you about it awhile back. 
A blockhead, in fact, I wouldnT take any stock in his genius — 
and what wonder? The Schillings and fine arts belong to- 
gether about as much as the donkey and the lute, and for that 
reaion I objected to the ‘ dobbing,'’ and the poor fellow had to 
do it on the sly; and now they tell me in Berlin that my son is 
a genius, with a bright career before him; and I have got to 
hide my head in shame before the people, and feel like a 
drenched poodle. Ah, if I had known the stuff my boy had 
in him things would be different 

The pale, gray eyes gave him a side glance. 

“You think, papa, the last of the Schillings could have 
been handsomely supported by the paint-brush and pencil ?'’•’ 

“ Clementine!’^ her husband exclaimed, angrily. 

“ I beg of you, do not speak so loud, ” She placed her hand 
over her ear as if the clear voice were distressing to her. She 
was delicate and nervous and excitable, but she would not be 
silent. “ Confess now, could you subsist on the remuneration 
people of the — the — demi-monde are able to make? Bor ex- 
umple, what did the ^ Hes^mona in white satin ’ bring you?’' 


m THE SCHILLTHGSCOTTRT. 


' lie upper lip of tlie speaker twitched oTer the long white 
t X)th. 

The same characteristic smile that played about the young 
\ Strongs mouth in the hall awhile ago, appeared again, and he 
^ ave Lucille an expressively ironical look. This young lady 
^'as literally itching to reward that ‘‘long, drawn-out gray 
I erson,’’' with a pretty little speech for the “ demi-monde.” 

“ That picture brought me long-sought success after many 
failures, and the happiness of finding a subject from which I 
could realize my ideal of the doge’s unfortunate daughter. 
Madame Fournier has a magnificent profile, and her self- 
sacrificing kindness and patience during the long, tedious 
sittings — ” 

“ Tedious?” exclaimed the baroness, with a hysterical 
laugh. “ It is wrong, Arnold — indeed it results in deceit and 
distrust, for people to marry without knowing all about each 
other first, as seems to be the case with us.” 

The old baron was in the act of breaking an egg, but he. 
paused, his eyes flashed from under their bushy brows, and he 
lifted his head like some growling lion, ready to roar a terse 
reprimand, but desisted, on second thought, and gave way to 
a humorous turn of speech. 

“ What is that you say? There are things in your past life 
of which Arnold knows nothing? And what of it, little 
woman? — marriage is not going into a business partnership, or 
something of that kind, where one is expected to bring written 
credentials from one’s former associates! You were in a con- 
vent until your seventeenth year; but, setting this fact aside, 
we will take it for granted that there are no improprieties to 
confess — things were all right in the convent, eh?” 

Notwithstanding her cutting and malicious remarks, the 
baroness had, up to this time, done the honors of the table 
with dignity — ^but now she raised her handkerchief to her lips 
with trembling hand, as if the shock of her father-in-law’s 
rude expressions had caused blood-spitting from which she was 
ready to faint. 

Arnold looked pleadingly reproachful at his father, and took 
his wife’s hand, saying, affectionately: 

“You may trust in my past, as you can in the future you 
are to share with me. In time you will see the necessity there is 
in my pi’ofession to study all phases of humanity, and this will 
bring me in contact with all grades of society. If the adage, 

‘ The end justifies the means,’ aj^plies anywhere, it does in the 
glorification of art; she seeks her motive in the boudoir and in 
the garret, and when I find a subject that interests me, I fob 


m THE BCHTLLlHnSCOUKT. 

low it, thougli it leads me into the liainits of crime. The wife 
of an artist must expect that, and you will also get accustomed 
to it.^" 

“No, Arnold; you may as well let such sanguine hopes 
perish at once!^^ she replied, with energy. “ I was brought 
up to be truthful a)]d candid. I offer my devotions to pictures 
of the Virgin, and I remain during the whole of mass, because 
it is my duty as a good Catholic to do so; but beyond this all 
that is called painting and music is repugnant to me. 

She spoke deliberately, and with downcast eyes, and toyed 
meanwhile with a corner of the lace on her handkerchief, but 
the concluding sentence was uttered with an expression of 
vindictiveness that looked very like a desire to flay the fine-art- 
loving husband. 

“ You see, Arnold, she resumed, in the same monotone, 
“ I have the courage to be upright about it, unlike most of my 
sex, who wouldn’t take a step out of their way to see a Raphael 
or listen to an oratorio if they did not fear the anathema of 
the art-crazy world. I am no hypocrite. I confess that to my 
weak sight a painting is merely a daub of colors, sketches bore 
me, and music irritates my nerves, and I entertain a consti- 
tutional antipathy for everything called genius. Then do not 
think, dear Arnold, that in becoming the wife of Baron Schilling, 
I imagined I should become the wife of an artist, and I shall not 
accustom myself to the things you mention.” 

“We will not quarrel about it,” he replied, shortly. But 
his face w^as very pale, and his haughty calm proved him to be 
fully able to maintain his own way without words. The lady 
seemed startled by the short reply — the tones and decided 
manner were new to her. She anticipated a different result 
from her “ upright confession.” 

Felix listened in silence and sorrow to this worthy exchange. 
Poor Schillingscourt, its peaceful, cozy atmosphere was dis- 
turbod indeed — it was radiant once more with ancient glory — 
but the empty treasury had been filled at a sacrifice of its 
heart’s sunshine, under the brightness of which no one moped 
and no one scolded — the nightmare of bad temper found no 
lodgment in its sunny corners. But with all the glare of its 
present expensive light, the bats and owls of bigotry, pride and 
malice flourished. On the brow of the would-be sovereign of 
the human souls under that roof was plainly written: “ It all 
belongs to me!” 

Here, also, he found a self-willed woman despot, such as had 
^ade him homeless. 

Who could have imagined that this cold-faced being with th© 


Its TEB SCHiLLIKClSCOURT. 


6S 

rtun-like drooping eyelMa had maneuvered fco win her young 
husband? During her fatber^s iilness the previous year, the 
old baron and his son liad visited the dying relative in Oob- 
lentz. When they returned the old gentleman had laughingly 
told Felix that the heiress was ‘‘ over head and ears in love 
with Arnold; that she was willing to give up her intention of 
retiring to a convent after her father^s death, for the sweet pur- 
pose of becoming Baroness S . Then followed her father^s 

demise, that the young lady announced by letter to Baron 
Krafft, and a regular correspondence followed. The young 
lady used her pen well, for the old gentleman began to nourish 
a fervent desire to have her for a daughter. In providing a 
%vife for his son thus, the estates and wealth of the Schillings 
would also be restored to him. The stroke of apoplexy that 
prostrated him about this time helped him in the accomplish- 
ment of his plans. Arnold submitted. He loved his father 
tenderly, and standing beside what might be that parentis 
death-bed, he promised to wed the lady of his father^’s choice. 

Did he love the tall Coblenz cousin that became his wife 
on such short acquaintance? having seen each other only two 
or three times. Love her! Felix shuddered at the idea of his 
friend, with his poetical beauty, worshiping nature embracing 
that living could-souled skeleton. Impossible ! But there was 
not a trace of discontent in his interesting face. He had an 
iron will; as a lad it never occurred to him to hold others 
responsible for his acts, not even his father. 

But the old baron displayed his disappointment. He was on 
the war-path with the delicate woman who had duped him so 
nicely with her fluent pen. He was miserable and repentant 
for having destroyed his son's happiness," as he groaned to 
himself, for he said nothing to Arnold. He dared not send a 
bomb-shell at the enemy if he didn't want to subject the house 
to a succession of “ nervous attacks " — and he was tired of 
useless skirmishing — so he was silent. 

Pushing back plate and eg£ oup, after swallowing a few 
hasty mouthfuls, he took from his pocket a package that he 
had placed there on leaving his room. His face cleared with 
evident pleasure as he said : 

See here, Felix, in this parcel we have the solution of 
your difficulties." He wiped his spectacles and put them on, 
then opened the paper, disclosing a long, closely written letter 
and a flat package wrapped in silk. “ To sum up, briefly, 
Avhat you have been telling us means — your mother has dis- 
owned, and don't want you even after you are dead. Stuff and 
nonsense! And that rascally uncle of yours, of course, sigr«1 


64 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOUKT. 


the verdict with a thousand blessings. That settles it! Madame 
Lucian has no more claims on you — and — that removes the 
seal from my lips. 

Bracing himself with both hands on the table, he leaned 
over and gazed with his fiery blue eyes sharply into the young 
many’s face awhile, then asked : 

“ Have I ever spoken to you about your father?^^ 

Felix shook his head; he had grown deathly pale, and waited 
in voiceless expectation. 

Very well! Then I have not!^^ He leaned back com- 
fortably in his chair again. “ I have not been at liberty to do 
so — though you may believe I have wanted to often enough, 
and to steal you, as they had stolen you — stolen, I say — and 
send you secretly across the ocean to your father, where you 
belonged !^^ 

His fist came down on the table, and set the dishes to danc- 
ing, and the nerves of the hostess to quivering, while she col- 
lected the salt and tea-spoons that had been scattered. 

“ But I had giveh your mother my word that in your pres- 
ence her husband^ s name should never be mentioned. I must 
avoid it, or I should not have been permitted to see you, and 
without me you would have mourned yourself to death, or 
grown crabbed -natured — they would have turned your Lucian 
blood into Wolfram vinegar, and I could not have kept your 
poor father posted — ^ ’ 

He stopped short. He had observed the effect upon Felix 
when this subject was broached, but he was not prepared for 
the intense emotion that burst forth at the sound of his father^s 
name. 

He sprung from his chair, and grasping the old baron^s 
hand he pressed it stormily to his bosom, stammering eagerly: 

My father! You know where he is — he is living — he 
thinks of me!'’^ 

“Keep quiet, my impulsive boy,^^ the old gentleman said, 
as his sympathetic eyes became moist with emotion. “ How I 
wish he could see you now. It would do his soul good. Ah! 
Felix, he loves his boy as — I love mine.-’^ A stolen, sorrowful 
glance was sent at that “ boy,"'’ with an awful sigh. “We 
were companions in youth — we are friends to-day. Lucian 
was just another such a merry, extravagant fellow as myself, 
and was more at home, in Schillingscourt than with his own 
people. Poor devil, it would have been better for him had he 
never seen the place, and that icicle, Teresa Wolfram. Before 
he left Germany he came secretly to Schillingscourt one night. 
He was wild to see you, ^d had concocted all sorts of um 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


65 


feasible plans to obtain possession of you and his rights; but 
he couldn’t get around that sly old fox in the cloister yonder, 
and he had to leave without you. Over the sea he sought a 
new home and found it. He married a wealthy Spanish lady, 
and they were living together happily up to the time of her 
death. Until then his letters were quiet. He evidently loved 
her dearly, and became reconciled to life in her society; but 
she is dead, and he is once more in a state of excitement, and 
longing to see his son.’^ He paused, and shook his head 
laughingly as he took up the letter. ‘‘ Singular, isn’t it? Yes- 
terday I received this letter. Lucian is in failing health, and 
like myself in no condition to travel, and he begs most urgent- 
ly for me to tell him about you and your circumstances. How, 
what is the use of wasting words? You bundle up and go 
to your father, and make America your home in the future.” 

Felix was walking up and down the floor in a tumult of ex- 
citement. Relief, joy, and also sorrow filled his soul in turn. 
He now remained standing before Lucille, who rose and cast 
herself impulsively upon his breast. 

‘‘ Will you go with me, Lucille?” 

‘‘ Why, of course, you foolish Felix! At once, just as I am. 
Heavens! an ocean voyage. Why, that is better and jollier 
than I could have dreamed of. To America it is. To Hew 
York, that gay city, of course?” 

Ho, pretty child; to the south direct — to the rich planta- 
tion state. South Carolina. Friend Lucian has become a cot- 
ton planter; his father-in-law left him a splendid estate, I be- 
lieve. Those wealthy planters are said to live in a manner 
that would make our aristocracy hide its diminished head. 
Lucian’s father-in-law was a Spaniard, from Florida originally, 
and, according to description, lived in princely style. ’ ’ 

With a meaning smile he turned to Felix again. ‘‘ You see, 
my boy, you need not be at all troubled about the scouidrelly 
way you have been fooled out of your mother’s inheritance. 
Your father has been making provisions for you this many a 
year. Although he can not give you the plantation, fo'r you 
have a sister — see!” — he unfolded the silk-draped package, 
and gave Felix a porcelain portrait — ‘‘It is the thirteen-year- 
old daughter of his seqond marriage.” 

Lucille pressed close to Felix, eagerly curious to see the 
picture, and Baron Arnold approached for the same purpose. 
Only the pale hostess remained unmoved, balancing a tea- 
spoon upon the end of her finger. Were it not for the sudden 
flush upon her cheeks one would have supposed she were botl^ 
deaf and blind to the scene, 
s 


66 IN' THE SCHILLINGSOOURT. 

Is she not a beauty, this little Mercedes?^ ^ the old gentle- 
man asked. 

‘‘ This is not a little girl Lucille exclaimed, “You say 
she is only thirteen, but she looks us haughty and serious as a 
learned professor! Look out, Felix, I^m jealous!’^ she added, 
poutingly. “ Shall you love her?” 

“ Certainly, Lucille, although she may not love me. Her 
features are cold and proud. ” 

“ Aren^’t they? And she is humpbacked, you may be as- 
sured. Any one with a pretty figure would have more than 
simply the head painted; ITl wager my little finger on that! 
Why, this looks as if the head had been decapitated in that 
mass of clouds."’^ 

“ No; it appears to fioat in them with angelic beauty,^^ 
Baron Schilling remarked, without removing his delighted 
gaze froni the portrait. “ It is a masterpiece, a most* artistic 
gem. ” 

“ It was painted by an old artist and friend of Lucianos,” 
Baron Krafft explained. “ I agree with you it is a face to 
impress a person. It made even an old cripple like me glow 
with pleasure to look into those* splendid eyes. She does not 
resemble her father at all. ” 

“ Nor Felix either,” interposed Lucille, with evident satis- 
faction. “ The yellow complexion and awfully thick black 
hair — ” 

“ And blue-black sparkling eyes are only to be found in the 
tropics,” Baron Arnold quickly added. “What a glorious 
study that head would be for me!” 

“ You may keep the picture, Arnold,” said his father, as a 
dark shadow gathered on his face. “ Lucian imagines things 
at Schillingscourt still creep along in their old quiet rut. 
During his wife^s illness our correspondence flagged. Now he 
writes for you to hang your title and jurisprudence, and come 
to him; he was dreaming of a happy future for you and Felix. 
I was to show you Mercedes’s picture. Well, you can guess the 
rest!” 

Arnold’s face crimsoned painfully and hastily, but gently 
he replaced the portrait in its wrap. A hand was laid heavily 
upon his arm, his wife glided from his side after one covert 
glance at the picture, and went to the little stand for her work. 

She remained standing there as if rooted to the sjoot. Tho 
heart-rending cry of a child, so replete with misery that it 
caused the old baron to spring to his feet, and limp, with the 
assistance of Felix, to the window from the direction in the 
garden fi'om which the sound came, 


liT THE SCIIILLINGSGOURT. 


or 

The storm had abated;, but the sky fftill hung lowering over 
the city. The light from the street lamp in front of the Pillar 
House lighted up the parterre with its fountain and flower- 
beds. On the street people were gathered. The murmuring 
of hushed voices reached wondering listeners at the window. 
The baroness had seated herself, and resumed her work by the 
sewing stand. The child's cry had died away, and all was 
still. In rising so hastily, Baron Kraflt had brushed the por- 
trait from the table, and it had fallen noiselessly upon the 
carpet. The baroness had seen it fall, but it was beneath her 
dignity to pick it up. Her eyes drooped over the work in 
hand, the white thread was drawn in and out steadily; only 
once the glance wavered. Minka came stealing, after a timid 
reconnaisance, from her retreat, gathered to her bosom the 
fallen portrait with its silk wrapping, and hurried back to her 
hiding-place. 

Her mistress bent a little lower over the work in hand, that 
was all. But she had no idea that a pair of bright eyes had 
watched the proceeding from the window — Lucille, nearly 
smothered with laughter. This jealous woman, with her 
hatred of the fine arts, was intensely amusing, and besides, it 
was no misfortune if that girl in the “ tropics " got her yellow 
face scratched a little. 

The people on the sidewalk began to disperse, and the baron 
closed the window, thinking the cry had been occasioned by 
some naughty little runaway, overtaken by its mother, and the 
party returned to the table. 

The old baron began to make a search among the dishes and 
napkins for the picture. 

“ What the mischief has become of it? Did you put it 
away, Clementine?" 

‘‘ I have been engaged with my embroidery," said the baron- 
ess, in soft, undisturbed tones, without looking up from her 
busy needle. 

Baron Arnold took the lamp and looked under the table, 
and on the floor around it, for the missing picture; Felix and 
Lucille, who bit her lips in the endeavor to keep from laugh- 
ing, assisting in the search, when the sound of crackling, like 
the breaking of some brittle object, came from the window. 
Baron Arnold hastily put down the lamp — the next instant the 
curtains had parted, and the struggling, yelling Minka was 
being carried across the room in an iron grip, and flung out of 
the door. 

‘‘ Will you never do me the favor of giving that destructive 


6S 


m THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


little beast away, Clementine? It is an annoyance to every- 
body in the house. 

The young wife lifted her head. Two deep lines appeared 
between the ash-colored eyebrows^ and even the thin, com- 
pressed lips had become pale now. She touched the table-bell. 

The chamber-maid is to take Minka to my room and give her 
her supper, she said to the answering servant. Then resumed 
her work as if nothing had occurred. 

Baron Krafft’s well foot stamped the floor, and an oath was 
suppressed upon his lips as he manipulated his gray beard 
savagely. His son gathered up the fragments of the broken 
portrait. “ By the luckiest chance,^-’ said he to Felix, ‘‘ the 
face has escaped — only the hair is mutilated, and that can be 
remedied. The soul is in the eyes — the expression will give 
me food for thought as long as I can hold palette and brush. 
I shall mend it, and then feel as if I had a right to keep it. 

He wrapped the porcelain pieces in the silk, and placed 
them in his breast pocket. 

Lucille looked vexed. ‘‘Good gracious she exclaimed, 
crossly. “ What a fuss to make about a thirfceen-year-old snip 
of a girl! A nice beginning! If the little crook-back with her 
g 3 rpsy face rules and reigns by the power of her picture, what 
may her tyrannical flesh embodiment not do? Look out, 
Felix, there will be war the very flrst moment, for L’m not 
going to be put down! Just let her try it!^'’ 

With a graceful little spring she went through the motions 
of scratching out the far-away tyrank’s eyes. The action was 
deliciously vixenish, and the old baron’s eyes glowed as he 
watched the exquisite little creature’s roguish performance. 
“Bravo!” he exclaimed, enthusiastically; and Felix grasped 
the rosy little hands with rapturous fondness. “ I shall be 
there with you, Lucille,” said he, tenderly. 

“ And friend Lucian will be as little able to resist the charm- 
ing Puck as his son,” the old gentleman laughed. “ Well, 
Felix, when are you going to march?” 

“ At once, I sliould say.” 

“Good! To-morrow afternoon let it be. In the morning 
we shall make all the necessary preparations. That lamenting 
female you left at the hotel, Lucille, of course, goes with you. ” 

“ And you really intend leaving Germany, Felix, without 
seeing Lucille’s mother?” 

“ In mercy’s name, what are you thinking of, cher baron?” 
Lucille cried, in affright. “You do not know mamma — we 
should be parted forever should we be seen in Vienna. Mam- 
ma is capable of having Felix put under prison bolt and bar. 


69 


m THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 

She would never give her consent — rather would she put me in 
A convent. Ugh! horrid! Felix, I pray you let us get on 
board ship at once! Let us not delay an instant !^^ 

‘‘ E'ot an instant, Lucille; rest easy on that score. Do hot 
judge me severely, Arnold; but it can't be helped now. I 
must hold on to my blessing now that I have her. As soon as 
we reach America I shall do everything in my power to ap- 
pease the mother. " He turned away, for the reproaching 
eyes lost none of their severity. 

“You can not understand my feelings, for you — " 

He would have added, “ do not love," but his glance fell on 
the young wife, who just then rose, pushing her chair back 
noisily. Indignant and surprised, she had listened to Felix; 
now she placed a greater distance between them by retiring to 
one of the cushioned lounges, and, sinking among the silken 
pillows, leaned her head against the carved wall. With the 
movement one of her heavy blonde curls escaped its hold and 
fell over her bosom, but it added no attraction to the odd face. 
It would have beautified a bright one; here it appeared un- 
natural. With hands folded in her lap, and half-closed eyes, 
and mouth curled contemptuously, she settled into repose. 
Baron Krafft gave her a droll look, aiid said: 

“ Arnold, don't disturb the happiness of these children, I 
implore you. Felix does just right; he has no frog blood in 
his veins. I should have done the same thing. An imbecile is 
he who does not grasp happiness when it laughs him challeng- 
ing in the face! King, my son! Have Adam bring cham- 
pagne." 

“ Adam, papa? You sent him away this afternoon." 

The old gentleman stared a moment, then struck his fore- 
head in recollection. 

“ Damned affair!" he muttered, fiercely. “ I can't get along 
without him. Has he really gone, the foolish fellow?" 

“ Yes, father. But you absolutely abused him to-day." 

“ Bah! shall I handle the wretch who betrays his old master 
with gloves?" 

“ I have been talking to Adam," Felix began to intercede; 
“ he was nearly heart-broken. I don't see how you came to 
fasten your susjficions on him. The trick was too mean, and 
my uncle — " 

“ Silence!" roared the old gentleman. “ Your uncle is a 
shark," was the polite addition, as the veins in the speaker's 
forehead filled angrily. “ He robbed me just as he is helping 
to rob you of your inheritance. How and when he stole my 
secret it would be hard to tell by looking at him who has 


^0 


m THE schtllthgscourt. 


trickery bolstered fist-deep behind the ears, but that he spied 
and pried the secret from some one, is certain. I shall proba- 
bly remain in the dark about it the rest of my life. If Mr. 
Adam has not yet condescended to return, just tell Christian 
to fetch the champagne, he ordered in a less excited tone. 

His son opened the door and gave the order. The sound^ of 
many voices in the hall was not observed in the hurried closing 
of the door, but when a servant entered with waiter and 
glasses, the murmuring grew louder and more startling. 

“ What does this mean?^^ growled the baron; “has the 
street brawl been carried in -doors The glasses rattled on 
the waiter with the trembling of the hand carrying it. “ And 
what ails you, man? you are pale as a sheet and shake like a 
sinner. What^s up?'^ 

“Ik’s on account of Adam,^^ stammered the man. 

“ Adam? Is the rascal back?'^ 

“ No, sir; it is his little Hanna; she is chnging to Fritz, and 
wonT go home to her grandmother.-’^ 

“ She is right; she belongs with her father here in Schillings- 
court. Why donT the rascal come in and announce his re- 
turn? Tell him to show himself this minute 

“ Oh, sir, they have just dragged him out of the water. It 
is all over with him. 

The old baron fell back in his chair as if struck, and simul- 
taneously the baroness gave a shriek and rushed from her 
couch into her husband^s arms. 

“There! There on the wall! There was a knock, and 
some one sighed fearfully! I felt the icy breath !^^ 

Lucille ran and hid her pretty face on Felix's breast, and 
covered her ears with her hands with childish dread of hearing 
the ghostly sounds described. 

In the matter of superstition this superficial child of the 
world and the convent-bred woman harmonized fully. 

“You know, Clementine> your hearing is oversensitive/*’ 
her husband said, but his voice was a trifle unsteady with the 
shock just sustained. . “We frequently hear noises in that 
hall; the mice travel through it from the Cloister House. 

“Oh, no! I know better. It is the unhappy soul '' — ^her 
thin form twitched spasmodically as she spoke — “ of the self- 
murderer who is doomed to haunt Schillingscourt in expiation 
of his crime. Arnold, we can’t stay here now. ” 

“ Clementine, I won’t listen to such nonsensical stuff. 
Convent reminiscences!” her husband said, impatiently, as he 
freed himself from her clinging arms. 

“ Hid you say Hanna was in the hall?” he asked the servant, 


IK THE SCIIILLIKOSCOURT. 

who stood scared out of his wits, with the champagne bottle in 
his hand. 

“Yes, sir; Adam took her to his mother-in-law’s house this 
afternoon before he went away^, but she ran away and waited 
for Fritz, who was troubled about Adam’s strange actions, any 
way, and asked him to help her find her father. They hunted 
everywhere in that awful rain, and at last, near the old Action 
Mill, they saw some men drag him out of - the water. ” 

“ A crazy trick — a mean trick! I didn’t think Adam would 
serve me so!” muttered the old baron, the robust color all 
gone out of his face. 

“ Indeed, he didn’t know what he was about,” the man 
pityingly apologized, and respectfully continued: “ The miller 
saw and spoke to him only a moment before, and just because 
he talked wildly, he and his boy followed him, and were on the 
spot as he jumped into the water. They had him out in no 
time; he was not drowned, but the sudden chill in his heated 
condition caused apoplexy — that killed him. ” 

“ Bring the child in here.” 

The man hesitated. “ She is so wet, and barefooted. 
Mamselle Birkner is crying, and says — ” 

“ Never mind what Mamselle Birkner says; the girl is to 
come in here.” 

The servant retired, and directly after the door was opened, 
and “ Mamselle Birkner,” the housekeeper for many years at 
Schillingscourt, came in, pushing the child before her. 

Hanna’s little red frock clung to her legs dripping wet, her 
disheveled hair streaming as well, the bare feet covered with 
mud. Mamselle Birkner’ s eyes were overfiowing with tears, 
as she led the cliild forward. 

“ Go away! go away!” the baroness exclaimed, hysterically, 
drawing her trail aside for fear the muddy little feet would 
touch it. 

Hanna obeyed the baron’s motion for her to draw near, by 
describing a very respectful circle around the “ gracious lady,” 
and remained standing before the old gentleman with tear- 
swollen, downcast eyes, picking and pulling at her fingers as if 
she were tearing a flower to pieces. 

“ You do not want to stay with your grandmother?” Baron 
Krafft asked, trying to speak steadily, for it was evident that 
the appearance of the poor little orphan affected him painfully. 
The child only lifted the heavy eyelids to drop them again, 
a’ld remained silent. 

“ No, she is determined not to go and stay with her grand- 
mother,” Mamselle Birkner answered for her. “The old 


72 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


woman came as far as the gate and wanted to force her away, 
but the girl created such a disturbance Fritz insisted she should 
not go by force, Wt now he is afraid he has done wrong by 
bringing her here — 

‘‘ He has done right, tell him/' The baron drew the child 
^ward him gently, and lifted her face to his, asking, tenderly : 
, Is your grandmother unkind, Hanna?" 

This sympathetic address melted the mute grief, and she 
burst into childish lamentations. 

“ It's her fault! She scolded and scolded him because the 
gracious master sent him away — and — and — ^when they carried 
him — there — she scolded more and shut the door — on him, 
oh!" 

“Stay with us, Hanna; you need not go to her either." 
Baron Arnold comforted the child. 

“ Arnold!" exclaimed his wife, starting up. “ What would 
you do?" 

“Just what I am going to do, my lady daughter-in-law. 
The child remains here, and will be brought up at Schillings- 
court — there's nothing further to be said about it ! Birkner, 
take charge of her, will you?" 

“ Oh, how gladly, gracious master!" 

“ Well, then, get these wet clothes off, and put the poor 
little thing into a comfortable bed." 

The woman went out with Hanna. The baroness rose, 
trailed slowly across the room, and with a scarcely audible 
“ good-night," retired to her apartments. 

The following afternoon the baron's closed carriage left 
Schillingscourt. The great gate of the Cloister estate was 
wide open. A dairy-maid was sweeping, and another one was 
just coming out with a basket of vegetables as the carriage 
drove by. Felix leaned far out of the coach window and gazed 
anxiously into the yard. 

The women nudged each other and giggled. 

“ There they go!" one of them said, “ and Mrs. Lucian is 
at the window; she must have seen them, and she can't help 
but feel bad, for she must have a little heart with all her pride 
and mulishness. She thinks everything has got to go to suit her. 
But I tell Christel she feels it, if she don't let on. Last night 
she kept going from one window to the other half the night 
through, thinking he would come back without his girl. Her 
bed wasn't touched this morning." 

At the window in the senator's room she stood, clutching at 
the sill as she stared at the pale face of her son, whose eyes 
fought vainly for a last glance at his mother. Not a sigh 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


73 


escaped her; like a statue she stood there. Her brother ap- 
proached. ‘‘He is lost to you now, Teresa. The miserable 
boy has gone to his good-for-nothing father. She turned 
upon the speaker as if he had struck her with a dagger, but 
she did not ask, “ How do you know?^' She gave him instead 
a frantic look, and setting her teeth together with a gritting 
sound, walked out of the room. 


CHAPTER IX. 

It was a. d. 1868. In the course of eight years great events 
had taken place in two hemispheres. Bloody scenes had been 
enacted in Schleswig-Holstein and Bohemia; and in the United 
States the four years of civil war between the North and South 
had bathed the country in blood. These eight years had been 
eventful ones for millions of human souls, and also for the ex- 
ile who left Ms fatherland one June day in the company of his 
chosen wife, to seek a home with his new-found father. 
Eventful also for Schillingscourt, where the senior of the house, 
Baron Kralft, after a second apoplectic stroke, had closed his 
merrily flashing eyes forever, and in consequence the Pillar 
House was frequently deserted, with all its ancient glory. But 
apparently time had made no change in the Cloister House; it 
lay there in its retreat as if events had marched by it in dis- 
dain. 

As of old the people came promptly at six to get their un- 
adulterated “ Cloister milk. The same field and dairy hands 
followed the beaten track of their duties. The poultry and 
pigeons retained the same form and color, proying that no 
strange breed had mingled there. Everything from roof to 
field was as “ unchanged,"^ said the neighbors, “ as the rusty 
hat of the senator, and the cold reserved face of Mrs. Lucian;'’^ 
but they were obliged to confess that the shoulders bearing 
that haughty head had become sharp and bony, and the thick 
braids had received a decidedly silver sheen, and that much of 
the energy had gone out of her motions and presence. 

But if there was anything different about the traditional 
physiognomy of the place to disturb the people, it was the wild 
boy who came so often bounding out of the little portal with 
yells to frighten the unsuspecting promenader. Or he would 
stand in the gate-way and lash at passing children with his long 
whip, and vary the amusement by stepping on ladies" trains, 
and give their wraps a sudden jerk, and thumb his nose at 
them. When he made his appearance in the barn-yard the 
leathered tribe scattered with terror, and the chained watch- 


74 


IK THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


dog cowered his tail like a cur, and sneaked into his kennel 
Even the coarse dairy-maids retreated, for no one was safe 
when Mosje Guy came along with his vibrating whip or cudgel 
in hand. There was not much of the hardy physical strength 
of the Wolfram race in this late arrival. His nervous system 
was intensely delicate, and he was subject to fits. He had to 
be carried on pillows until he was eleven months old, and then 
it required the most expensive strengthening tonics before he 
was able to stand on his thin little spider legs, and incredibly 
thin these pedals were still. The dark little face between the 
protrudingly large ears had not rounded with the years, and 
the unnaturally bristling thick black hair grew V-shaped down 
onto his forehead, like his father. 

But he had grown very tall and agile for his age; he could 
climb like a monkey into trees, up the grape-vine leaders to the 
top of the walls, and scramble along the edge of the roof. He 
crept through crack and crevices into the hay-lofts and corn- 
bins. He hunted hidden nests like a rat, and sucked the eggs. 
He was intelligent far beyond his years, and knew that every- 
body and everything was afraid of him, and he became a very 
scourge and kept the house in perpetual dread with his impish 
tricks. 

The senator watched the progress of his son with delight and 
pride, but what Mrs. Lucian thought of the extraordinary 
characteristics and habits of this surely genuine Wolfram, no 
one knew; for she remained silent on this, as well as every 
other subject l^at concerned her brother. Only once had she 
made some censuring remark about the lad’s disposition, and 
the senator replied, snappishly: 

“ Time is ^apting the Wolfram nature to the demand of 
the age. The season for tread-mill labor and economy is past, 
the world has no use for capitalists who ride wooden horses, 
Teresa; it needs men who have the mettle to live up with it, 
and my son shows the stuff; he was born for the times!” 

Since that time she merely attended to the boy’s physical 
w^elfare, and though anger flashed from -her eyes when the serv- 
ants made some especial complaint, she said nothing, and mo- 
tioned toward the senator’s room, as if justice could be found 
there. 

She grew more and more silent and morose, and her milk- 
customers declared that it even annoyed her to be obliged to 
return their short “good-evening.” Down-stairs her hands 
were ever restlessly busy, but when alone in the gable-room, 
they were folded wearily in her lap. 

Sometimes slie would sit by the oaken table in the window 


IK THE SClIlLLTKGSCOURT. ^'5 

for hours and think. During the first years there was a re- 
vengeful satisfaction in her face, when she saw that blank space 
on the wall where the picture of her son used to hang — for it 
eeemed as if she retained but one impression of him all this 
time, and that was the moment when the veiled girl had tri- 
umphed over her. Latterly she no longer looked up at the 
spot; her eyes avoided it when they wandered aimlessly into the 
distance and gazed for hours idly upon a landscape she did not 
see: this woman who formerly considered every moment thus 
spent so much money lost! She would not look upon the 
neighboring building either. She was well aware that her son 
remained in Schillingscourt that night, and had there been 
strengthened in his opposition to her. 

There was lio intercourse between the families whatever. 
!Njot even the old barony’s death had been announced at the 
Cloister House. On one occasion Baron Schilling had met her 
with the intention of speaking. She had— something that 
rarely happened — ^been to church; and she walked some dis- 
tance in silence, after he joined her on the way home, listening 
to his remarks, preparatory to handing her a letter he had 
received from Felix. She then changed color, and lifting her 
head, until it seemed to the baron she had grown several inches, 
and giving him an annihilating look, she said, with chilling 
politeness: ‘‘ I really do not understand whom you are talking 
about, nor why I should read a letter; I am not in correspond- 
ence with any one. He declared he would never make an^ 
other attempt to enlighten this icicle, as his father had 
called her. 

Thus she never discovered whither her son had gone, nor 
that his father had received the young couple with open arms 
and at once surrounded them with all that princely wealth 
could furnish — and well for her that she did not know it; she 
would have died with disappointed revenge, and perhaps with 
maternal sorrow. Neither was she aware that the civil war in 
America raged with greatest fury in the Southern States, and 
devasted also the wealthy State of South Carolina, and that 
the planter aristocracy, under whose banner Major Lucian 
stood, had to retreat fighting from their own ground, step by 
step, until finally they were defeated. 

Perhaps, if she had known of the ddath of the man whose 
name she bore, it would have had a salutary effect upon the 
heart of the woman, for with the close of a human life the 
spectacles through which we have followed the persecuting ob- 
ject are usually broken by the little word “ Dead,"’ and the 
flames of hatred perish like (he red clay of metal when it is cast 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


into water. But she did not know that he had perished in the 
gecession struggle, and continued to think of the adage, “ A 
father^s blessing builds what a mother^s curse destroys. With 
satisfaction she harbored such thoughts, while her unfortunate 
son lay dying from wounds received in defending his hearth 
and home. 

His name was never mentioned on the Cloister estate; but 
in Schillingscourt they received frequent news from America, 
at first glowing descriptions and enthusiastic hopes, but as early 
as 1861 the shadows fell ominously upon the paper. Then all 
was silent until 1865, when the war was at an end, and they 
received a letter from Felix, telling of his father^s death and 
of his desolated and devastated home, and his own wounds, 
from which he could not recover. This was the letter rejected 
by Mrs. Lucian. Then the former correspondence was re- 
newed, for Baron Schilhng was and remained a true, sincere 
friend to the exile. 

Baron Arnold von Schilling's life had flowed on, with the 
exception of his father^s death, smoothly. Steadily his name 
had become famous throughout Germany and far beyond the 
borders. His talents were to him an unexpected mine of 
wealth, and as the old gentleman remarked bitterly, shortly 
before his death, ‘‘ made the good-for-nothing, unfatherly sac- 
rifice of boor Isaac wholly uncalled for. 

The baron lived almost entirely devoted to his art. He had 
built him a beautiful atelier in the garden of Schillingscourt, 
but it was frequently deserted. He traveled in Italy and 
France, and rather favored Scandinavia, and carried his ideas 
and sketches for completion upon the ground they originated 
from. But wherever he appeared, in the streets of Rome, 
Paris, or Stockholm, the tall, pale, blonde wife hung upon his 
arm, dressed elegantly, but generally in gray. 

She had evidently given up warring against her husband’s 
beloved art. After lecturing for years with hatred about the 
“paint-brush business” being brought into the “ancestral 
home,” she would have sacrificed her “ nerves ” to the death, 
if she could have prevented the building of the garden studio. 
But her preaching had no more effect upon his even tempera- 
ment and external composure, than her dishke of it had upon 
his ambitious industry. The studio was finished before her 
eyes, and the detestable “ models ” passed unembarrassed by 
the “ gracious lady.” One beautiful picture after another was 
finished, and the still more detested “ earnings of the paint- 
brush ” came directly to the aristocratic address of Baron von 
Schilling. There being nothing else left for the excellent wife 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOUET. 


77 


to do, she decided to guard her husband's reputation, subjected, 
as his profession made him, to so many temptations. 

She was well adapted for this position, which was dictated by 
the wild, unspoken love she had fur him. 

Her delicate health did not prevent her from undertaking 
tiresome journeys. She never protested against — what he 
never asked her to undertake. When the day was set for Ms 
departure she had her trunks ready to join him. She wan- 
dered through picture-galleries and art museums, down into 
ravines and up mountains, and as soon as he began to sketch, 
she would sit down at a little distance, and begin that everlast- 
ing embroidery. 

In art circles she was more than disliked, for her sovereignty 
implied conteilipt of the profession, and her want of apprecia- 
tion of her husband's genius. And when, in 1866, the baron 
went to the seat of war in Bohemia, partly in the service, and 
partly to make some new studies, there was grand rejoicing 
among his artist friends, because for once his long, gray shadow 
would be forced to stay at home. 

In society she was of course not considered pretty," but 
she was comtue ilfaut, and her visiting-card represented two 
distinguished names. She was an heiress in her own right, 
and was a strong, a fanatical Catholic. This opened doors for 
her, particularly in Rome. 

It was a surprise for the neighbors to see smoke issuing once 
more, day after day, from the Pillar House chimneys and the 
garden gas-lamps lighted at night. It was reported that Baron 
Schilling was engaged on some great work, and had retired to 
his home to complete iz undisturbed. He was rarely seen 
about the house or garden. He took solitary horseback rides, 
and rode into odd by-paths to gather wild flowers, or sketch 
some pleasuring party. His atelier stood in the garden at the 
back of the Pillar House, in the center of a piece of ground 
that formed a park in the surrounding closely built neighbor- 
hood. Here the studio nestled in a picturesque solitude, where 
birds sung in the rich foliage of the trees, and drank at the 
fountains, in the waters of which the tame ducks swam and 
dived. It was a spot where nature and art were made to har- 
monize. 


CHAPTER X. 

The glass door leading upon the southern veranda of the 
Pillar House stood open. The morning air came in fresh and 
iweet, but the large salon parlor was close and warm^ for the 


78 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


orangery around the corner terrace prevented the breeze from 
entering freely through the open windows. 

The breakfast-table was set in a corner, where, from behind 
a large magnolia-tree, a wild grape-vine ran oyer the wall of 
the house and dropped some of its vines and foliage gracefully 
over the veranda balustrade and crept down to twine itself 
about the nearest pillar. Bright-plumed macaws swung theni- 
selves on their stands under the orange-trees, and stretched their 
screecliing necks toward the bread-baskets on the table. Spar- 
rows hopped chirpingly along the baluster ready to attack the 
waiting breakfast. Minka also came stealing out, but sus- 
piciously sly, as if she had escaped through some door that had 
been carelessly left open. Minka^s destructive nature had not 
mended with time; she still tore every letter,: photograph, or 
anything else she could get hold of into atoms; she broke her 
mistresses fans and parasols; she chewed the servantse clothes 
to flinders; she hid jewelry and odds and ends in all remote 
corners; but the baroness was her warm defender as of yore; 
she bought herself new fans and parasols, she reimbursed the 
servants for damage done their property, and personally aided 
in searching for hidden articles, though she mounted to the top 
of the house in the service of her pet. 

The mischievous animal was quick and agile as she was eight 
years ago. She scattered with one spring upon the baluster the 
screeching macaws, and to spite them, stuffed her cheeks with 
cake from the table, but all on the flight toward the opposite 
end of the terrace, for which she was bound. There the double 
avenues began, and on the vine-covered wall, shaded by the 
trees, the monkey curled herself among the cool foliage. Di- 
rectly after, the baroness, followed by a finely formed, impos- 
ing-looking lady, came out upon the terrace. Adelaide von 
Eiedt had been the convent schoolmate and intimate friend of 
the baroness from girlhood. She was still young, but rather 
plain-looking, with her hair brushed severely back from her 
brmiette face. When Baron Schilling left his wife for Bo- 
hemia, that lady had urged her ‘‘ long-dispensed- with friend ” 
to make her a Tisit, and sincfe that time Miss Biedt had made 
frequent visits at Schillingscourt for the purpose of nursing the 
invalid lady. She was without kith or kin, and a prebendary 
member of the convent. 

She arranged a shawl upon a wicker chair for the baroness, 
and placed a soft rug under her feet, and attended to her deli- 
cate friend with gentle solicitude. 

Do attend to those hungry screechers, Adelaide, the 
bareness remarked fretfully, pointing to the noisy macaws. 


IN THE vSCHILLINGSCOUKT. 


79 


Arnold ^has a positive passion of making me senseless and de- 
testable presents, and 1 am, for politeness" sake, obliged to 
accept and endure them,"" she sighed, grievously. 

Her voice was less soft and deeper toned, and her complex- 
ion a shade more ashen, while innumerable lines about the eyes 
and mouth made her look prematurely old. 

A white, long flowing wrapper, elegantly embroidered and 
trimmed with blue-ribboned bows, hung loosely upon her an- 
gular form, forming a decided contrast to the closely fltti»g, 
plain black silk dress of her friend, whose toilet had been com- 
pleted thus for the day. 

While she was breaking up some biscuits for the macaws, a 
young girl came out, bearing the breakfast upon a waiter. 

The bardhess frowned. 

“ Where is Birkner, and why are you attending to breakfast, 
Johanna?"" she asked, irritably. 

“ Mamselle Birkner begs you will excuse her; she in suffer- 
ing with a severe headache,"" the girl replied, looking at the 
lady with a pair of dark, somberly earnest eyes. 

“ The table is only set for two,"" scolded the baroness. 

The baron breakfasted in his studio, and went away on 
horseback two hours ago."" 

The baroness bit her lips, and turned her head away in 
silence. , 

At this moment distressing cries came from the garden. 
Minka danced around the grass-plat in a frantic manner, rub- 
bing her back and screaming with all her impish might, and 
on the top of the garden wall stood a second impish-looking 
creature, with two thin legs protruding from a pair of short, 
bagging velvet pantaloons. Master Guy balanced in one hand 
a big tin horn, and with the other held his sides with laughter. 
He felt like turning heels over head with delight at the effect 
of his horn blast. 

The servants came running to the aid of the unhappy Minka, 
and at the gable window in the other house appeared the still 
handsome but aging face of Mrs. Lucian. She lifted her 
hand threateningly at the boy and uttered a stinging reproof. 

The senator also appeared on the other side of the wall, that 
he had mounted by a ladder placed against it by his son. 

‘‘ Don"t trouble yourself, Teresa!"" he called up to liis sis- 
ter. ‘‘lam able to attend to my own affairs. There is no 
occasion for anger here any way. If people will keep such 
nasty vermin about them, they may do so for what I care, but 
let "em keep it between their own walls, and not creep upon 
»ther people" s property to scare the life out of them. I shall 


80 


IN THE SOHILLINGSCOUET. 


not punish my son for the well-deserved lesson the beast re- 
ceived. 

The face at the window vanished, and the senator grabbed 
his long-legged, struggling hopeful and bore him down the 
ladder. His coarse speech reached every ear on the terrace. 
“The wretch!'" said the startled baroness; “ and I have no 
redress — I can not complain to Arnold because poor Minka is 
the suiferer." 

She withdrew behind the magnolia, and leaned her head de- 
spondently against the wall. “ The hateful animal!" she 
lamented; “ some one has left the door open on purpose to 
annoy me — I know these mean little tricks — Minka's escape 
from my rooms was premeditated. " She cast a resentful look 
upon the girl — “ You did it, Johanna." 

The girl's face became crimson. 

‘ ‘ Excuse me, madame, but I protest against the accusation. 
I never neglect my duty," she replied modestly but with firm- 
ness; and quietly left the room, after waiting a moment for the 
lady to reply or give some order. 

“ That ‘ Hanna ' is another of the afflictions Arnold has just 
put upon me, and I can but sigh, powerless to help myself," 
the baroness complained, while the canoness waited on her as 
if she were a child. “ I shudder whenever she approaches me; 
her presence affects me with the breath of a self-murderer — she 
is Adam's child — and such a disagreeable physiognomy as she 
has! Her face is like a stone, as if a dead soul were back of 
it, and still the girl has a temper; she behaved like mad for a 
long while after that shocking catastrophe. " The baroness 
shrugged her shoulders. ‘ ‘ They have expected a great deal 
of me and my powers of endurance in this house; there is no 
peace to be found in Schillingscourt. " 

An ironical smile parted the lips of Adelaide. “ Is that a 
complaint, Clementine?" she queried, looking severely at the 
lady. “ When a person takes their fate into their own hands 
and plunges into the path so eagerly sought, they must abide 
by the consequences. Had you remained faithful to an early 
resolve, you would now have peace, in the blessed protection of 
God's sheltering walls. But Johanna is a dutiful and service' 
able girl, and has become really indispensable about the house. 
Confident of her father's innocence, she has grown up with the 
fixed idea that the truth will some day vindicate his name. " 

“ Berkner has told me as much. That woman has spoiled 
the girl. It is really ridiculous! The absurd thing takes the 
matter to heart as if some noble escutcheon had been dis- 
graced," She declined the dish offered, pushed back her 


liT THE SCHiLLTKaSCOUET. 


81 


plate, and crnmHed biscuit into her tea. ‘‘Bah! who wants 
to be bothered with such old stories! My father-in-law was 
frustrated in his plans by the tattling Adam, luckily for me. 
Life would have been intolerable with the old man had he be- 
come a millionaire, like the person over there I 

She pointed to the wall where the gray head of the senator 
had made its appearance shortly before. The indolent neigh- 
bor had suddenly become a lively enemy. 

“ Vulgar neighborhood, this Cloister estate!’^ she muttered, 
‘‘ and among those coarse-grained people Arnold found a 
companion — ‘ his only friend,^ as he is pleased to call him. 

“ That Telix Lucian, you mean, who eloped with a dancing 
woman, Miss Riedt remarked. ‘‘‘ Oh, Clementine, what 
strange, worldly elements have tided about you!'’^ 

The baroness frowned, and replied with energy: 

“ They could not touch me — I repel such associations! But 
study those square Schilling heads over in the gallery : there 
you will see each face stamped with self-will — Arnold calls it 
strength and courage — can I manage such a man? Reserve and 
disdain are the weak but only weapons that can be used by 
the wives of the Schillings. I have not yet confided to you 
that my husband has been drawn into a family secret, in con- 
sequence of which I may shortly be forced to tolerate about a 
person who may utterly destroy my peace and — 

A noise af'the door caused the baroness to stop and turn 
her head away with an ungraciously repellent motion. A 
servant had approached, carrying Minka on his arm. 

“ I only wished to announce that the poor little creature has 
recovered its spirits, the man stammered, taken back at the 
reception the monkey met with. 

“Very well. The chastisement wonT do her any harm. 
She is to be placed under arrest. I do not wish to see her 
again to-day. 

The servant handed her the mail portfolio and retired. In 
the hall he laughed in his sleeve. Heretofore w^hen anything 
had happened to the “black canaille’^ — just called the 
“ poor little creature before her mistress — she had been ex- 
amined and tenderly nursed — and now this sudden change. 
What the dislike of the baron and the lamentations of the serv- 
ants had not been able to accomplish, the coarse remark of the 
senator had settled — Minka was in disgrace! It was a good 
joke. 

The “ mail portfolio was a practical arrangement, inaug- 
urated by the baroness — ^for fear a careless domestic might 
jnisplace or lose a letter the mail was placed in this manner 


8 ^ 


m THE SCHILLIN^GSCOURT. 


into tlie liands of the mistress — and every letter that came to 
Schillingscourt passed through the fingers of that lady before 
it reached the party it was addressed to. 

Gracefully languid, she examined the contents now until she 
came upon a superscription that startled her as if a spider had 
crept over her hands. The letter was bordered with black, 
and the sealing-wax was distinctly impressed with a monogram. 

‘‘ Ah!"" said she, dismayed, “ I had hoped they would not 
come. ‘ Lupus infabula," Adelaide>"" she remarked, handing 
the letter addressed to the baron to her friend, with a forced 
laugh, “ that probably announces the contemplated arrival of 
the people I was telling you about. Shall you be able to 
breathe the same air, and live under the same roof with a 
former dancer?"" 

The dark, clever face of the canoness froze into icy reserve. 
“ That dancing woman coming here!"" she exclaimed; ‘^and, 
may I ask, Clementine, how can you be so Unutterably weak- 
minded as to permit this intrusion?"" 

The baroness was embarrassed, and began brushing the 
crumbs from the table-cloth to avoid meeting the other"s eyes. 

My husband absolutely begged me — he is not in the habit 
of begging—” 

“ Ah, that is certainly overwhelming."" The serene face of 
the sarcastic speaker did not have the desired effect. The 
‘‘ distinguished lady "" before her changed to the spoiled 
child,"" and said: “ Now don"t play the pedagogue, Adelaide; 
I know my position, and how to conduct myself! I resisted 
firmly, be assured. What is it to me that this Felix Lucian 
died? That his estates were confiscated and his family impov- 
erished! I look upon it as the avenging hand of God, laid 
upon the disobedient son who allowed himself to be dazzled, 
and turned against his own mother."" 

“ The old woman we saw at the window?"" 

“ Yes. She declines to hear anything about her son to this 
day, and very justly, too. She is not aware of his death, nor 
what he left his children. She scrapes and saves alone for her 
brotlier"s child, the grotesque skeleton that you saw on the 
wall awhile ago. It would be a good thing if some of the 
property were willed away from the spoiled, hateful boy! But 
what does that affair concern me! It has tasked my patience 
enough to listen to Arnold, when he speaks of his “ poor 
friend,"" and how fervently he wished his mother could see his 
two idolized children. It was his last request that his young 
widow return to Germany with the children — and dear knows 
what — I paid very little attention. But now these dreams and 


m THE SCHimKGSCOtJRT. 


88 


plans are to be carried out, notwithstanding the great diffi- 
culties. Senator Woliram takes good care to keep his sister 
removed from all communication with, and recollections of, 
her son; he is to be kept completely in the dark. The grand- 
mother is to see the children without knowing who they are, at 
first. Goodness knows how they expect to manage it. But 
Schdlingscourt is the ground of maneuvering — and Arnold has 
invited them here. 

“ And you countenance the intrigue, and are hand in hand 
with them in the secret?’^ 

‘‘ Certainly, if I do not retract my promise, was the vexed 
and wearied reply. “ Not one of the servants, but Birkner, 
who is the only one who would recognize the former Miss 
Fournier, are' to know who the visitors are.” 

“ Is this letter from the widow?” Adelaide asked, looking 
at the firm handwriting on the envelope. 

The baroness smiled scornfully. 

“ I doubt whether this former dancing-girl is able to write 
a respectable letter; I think Luciano’s half-sister, a Mrs. Mer- 
cedes de Valmaseda, has taken the preliminaries in hand. She 
writes short, curt letters in a most condescending style, and I 
am amazed at Arnold^’s good-nature in putting up with it. Her 
husband is probably some grandee, or some noble hidalgo, who 
struts in the pride of a patched mantle — for they have been 
fearfully reduced by the war — these slave-holding lords of the 
south.” 

She bounded as if electrified from her languid attitude. The 
iron gate opened, and Baron Schilling rode into the garden. 
The woman with the weary body and fainting soul was for one 
moment the personification of intense, passionate expectation. 
Then with a glance from under her drooping eyelids at her 
friend, she fell back into her general apathy again. 


CHAPTEK XL 

The baron sprung from his horse, and threw the lines to a 
servant in waiting, and motioned for Hanna, who stood in the 
hallway, to approach. 

“Here, my child, take these into the studio; you know 
where the others are.” 

He threw some flowers into the girPs apron; then, taking a 
few fresh wild roses from his button-hole, he handed them to 
her also, saying: “ Give them to Birkner, and tell her I have 
not forgotten to pick the first I have seen this season for her, 
^ust as I have done since I was a little boy. ” 


m THE SCHILLlKGSCOUilT. 


f^4 

He is crazy/^ muttered the baroness^^s ^Jie leaned ovei* 
the balustrade, and fixed her angry eyes upon the group. The 
baron caressed his horse and said jsome affectionate words to 
the beautiful animal, while the man held the lines ready to 
lead him away. “ My Lord! a person would think he was 
parting from the creature forever!’^ the watching woman re- 
marked, dryly. Who in their right senses would endure see- 
ing so much love lavished on a beast She took up a parcel 
of letters and held them over the baluster. Arnold, she ex- 
claimed, shrilly, these are for you!^'’ 

The baron lifted his hat with a bow to the speaker, and en- 
tered the house. 

The canoness cleared a space on the table, and lifted the lids 
of the dishes to see if their contents were still warm. 

Never mind, Adelaide; I never offer him anything when 
he has emancipated himself from rules, and breakfasted alone 
— no matter how hungry he may be after his ride. 

With rapid strides the baron joined them on the terrace, 
after leaving his hat in-doors. He shook hands with his wife 
and bowed coldly to her friend, who returned the greeting in 
like manner, and seated herself at some distance, with her 
work — silver embroidery on violet cloth. 

‘‘ Donna de Valmasedahas written, ' the baroness remarked, 
with peculiar intonation of the name, as she pushed the letter 
toward a corner of the table. 

The baron opened and glanced hastily over what the letter 
contained. 

‘‘We may expect our proteges in a week or ten days,^^ he 
remarked, “ and you will have to make a change in your re- 
ception programme, Clementine, for Mrs. Valmaseda will ac- 
company her sister-in-law, according — as she states here — to 
the express wishes of Felix — 

“ Indeed! and how many more wishes may this Felix have 
expressed that we must nolens nolens fulfill?^ ^ The lady lost 
none of her languor in speaking — ^but the hands in her lap 
were spitefully tearing some grape-leaves to pieces. “ Schil- 
lingscourt has ever been something of a hotel for this presum- 
ing person, even within my recollection, when he came storm- 
ing the house with his eloping bride, eight years ago. • I 
protest against this addition to the party. It is enough if I 
consent to have the quiet of my house disturbed with the widow 
and her children. 

Her husband listened to this opposition in a perfectly un- 
tnoved manner. During the first years of their married life^ 
his face expressed solicitude and anxiety to please and under ^ 


IK THE SCHILLlJSGSCOlTvT. 


85 


itwid his wife — ^iiow every feature displayed utter indifference. 
He replaced the letter in its envelope and quietly said: ‘‘We 
shall have to adapt ourselves to this addition. ’’ 

“By no means! It is an unprecedented intrusion on the 
part of this woman. 

“ I told you it must he done.^^ 

“ There is no must about it. Schillingscourt is not large 
enough to entertain a caravan of human beings. She was 
growing excited. 

“ There is room enough to obviate the necessity of your 
coming in contact. Be generous, be sensible, Clementine; 
consider that it is our mission to help restore the orphans to 
their own — 

“ Oh, yes, with this touching perspective you won my con- 
sent; but I have come to the conclusion since that I would be 
doing wrong to take part in an — ^but ask Adelaide what she 
calls it.^^ 

“ An unlawful intrigue the canoness cried. 

The baron looked over his shoulder at her. “Ah! ah! 
There is the cause of this change. I had forgotten your private 
spiritual adviser. 

“ Clementine will bear me out when I say that I abstained 
from giving any advice, the lady replied in vindication. 

“ Glad to hear it. Miss Riedt. I will excuse you from any 
unwarranted meddling in my affairs. 

The reproof was accepted with a shrug of the shoulders, 
but the baroness exclaimed, indignantly: 

“ Do not blame the innocent for a determination that is en- 
tirely the result of my own sense of right. On mature 
thought, I have concluded they shall not come here at all, and 
I take back my consent. I will not have it! And now let the 
matter rest, or you will drive me to extremes!^'' 

“ In what respect?” 

She watched the unmoved questioner from under her droop- 
ing eyelids — a clever retreat was impossible; that calm face 
would have its afliswer, but her voice was a trifle uncertain as 
she replied: 

“ You must not forget that I hold hypothecated claims on 
Schillingscourt.’’ 

The baron’s face became a shade paler, but he rejoined, 
quietly: 

“ I do not forget it any more than I can forget my dignity, 
and that I am master of this house. I will leave you now and 
consult Birkner in regard to the arrangements for the 
itrangers. ” 


86 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


Then go! You will, of course, leave niy apartments out 
of your calculations. I have no intention of permitting these 
— these Spanish paupers to sleep under the expensive curtains 
of my guest-chaMiber bedsteads. Let them take up their quar- 
ters in the haunted bedrooms. 

“ I believe that has already been decided on, he interrupted 
her, with a silencing motion. “ It is to be hoped this strang- 
er’s education has partaken of a less superstitious color than 
some convent-bred natures in this country. 

He gathered up his letters and walked away. 

The baroness rose, and stood, as if considering for a moment, 
then with a quick glance at the canoness, who appeared oblivi- 
ous of all that had taken place, she ran after her husband. 
How the lace barbes and blue ribbons of her breakfast-cap 
fluttered, and the long white wrapper swept the floor, as she 
flew after the retreating baron! 

‘‘Arnold!” 

“Well?” he queried, without pausing. 

“Arnold, come back! I will be good. Forgive me!’^ 
Her voice betrayed such repressed passion and agitated plead- 
ing that her arms opened involuntarily to the yearning heart’s 
behest. 

“ I have nothing to forgive — I am not angry.” 

He hastened his movements, but his wife caught up to him, 
noiselessly as a shadow, put her arm through his, and looked 
into his face in time to see the expression of desperation and 
repulsion there. 

“ Arnold,” she exclaimed, threateningly — for her unexpected 
presence had surprised him into a repelling action, as if he 
would have struggled to escape an ugly dream — “ you are com- 
mitting a sin! Think of what the physicians have said. It is 
your duty to avoid exciting me — they impressed upon you the 
danger — ” 

He set his teeth hard together and remained silent. To- 
gether they walked down the terrace steps; any stranger seeing 
them would have imagined this slowly promenading couple a 
picture of domestic bliss as they moved along under the trees 
of the double avenue. 

“ Pardon, Arnold, that thoughtless reminder of the Stein- 
bruck claims. ’ ’ 

The baron received the apology with a touch of impatience 
as he gazed into the lovely perspective of the arena. 

Oh, do drop the subject, Clementine, and don’t spoil thii 
glorious morning for me by this tiresome ‘ mine and thine, ’ ” 


IN THE yClIILUKGSCOUHT. 


87 

Bnt I only want to tell you that I think no more of those 
claims than you do/^ she persisted. 

“ There you are greatly mistaken. I think of them very 
often. Every time I wander under these dear old trees and 
look at the Pillar House — every time I add to the capital that 
is to redeem the mortgages, at least, upon the old homestead. 

Nonsense! Do you not share all that I possess?’^ 

“ No. During my father's life I submitted to the idea of 
joint possession, but you are an admirable book-keeper, and 
know that since his death this has not been the case for one 
hour." His face cleared with this relieving declaration, and 
resumed its wonted calm, that seemed to exasperate his wife 
more than his opposition. 

“ How considerate, how kind of 3^ou to tell me in this brutal 
manner that you are in no way my debtor— that you can do 
without me!" 

Without your money, Clementine." 

How correct my instincts were when they warned me at 
the very beginning of our married life that your art proclivi- 
ties would prove my mortal enemy! You gloat oier the inde- 
pendence it gives you!" 

My secret art!" he exclaimed, with tender enthusiasm. 

When I gaze into her beaming eyes, all mercenary interests 
sink far, far beneath me! But you are right. It is another 
of the blessings she has showered upon me, and with it I 
escape the woman's foot that would bear still more tyrannically 
upon my neck. But though this salvation were not mine, 
Clementine, you would have as little power to rule me with 
your money as you have now. I could have supported myself 
honorably with my knowledge in jurisprudence. " 

He stood still and drew a deep respiration as he drew him- 
self up to his fullest height. 

‘‘ Keally, then, you and I are done with each other," the 
baroness remarked, dryly. You prove to me that I am ab- 
solutely a cipher in your existence, and I am foolish enough to 
be your dutiful subordinate listener meanwhile. But I would 
be an idiot if I didn't make you feel in what way I have con- 
tributed to your welfare. I shall leave you. You have ac- 
cepted my solicitude for your comfort as a matter of course. 
You have never shown your approval of the pains I have taken 
to represent your house; but society has, happily, been more 
appreciative. Now, sir, find out by experience what it is to 
be without a wife! Get along the best you can with the 
itrange beggars that expect to swarm into Schiilingscourt, and 
the stupid housekeeping mamselle, who hasn't sense enough 


88 


IN THE SCHILLIXGSCOURT. 


to reach her little finger. To-morrow morning I begin my 
long-contemplated pilgrimage to Rome.'’^ 

don't, Clementine/^ her husband remarked, laugh- 
ing; “ you know these sacred excitements are very bad for 
your delicate nerves; you always return from such pilgrimages 
badly used up.^^ 

That is some more of your blasphemous talk! What we 
do for the honor of God can not injure us. I leave to- 
morrow. 

‘‘ Then go, in God’s name! I shall make no further attempt 
to restrain you. ” 

He resumed his walk quietly, and she returned to the house. 
Ringing for her dressing-maid, she ordered her traveling 
trunks to be brought and packed at once. Then she rejoined 
her friend on the terrace. 

Put away your altar-cloth, Adelaide; your dearest wish is 
about to be realized. We are going to Rome!” she exclaimed, 
excitedly. 

The canoness dropped her work into the basket and rose. 
An imposing presence she was, as she stood before the baroness, 
with her eyes glowering from the depths of her angry soul. 

Beware, Clementine!” said she, with finger lifted in warm 
ing. Your spiritual welfare is at stake! Your unholy pas- 
sion drives you from one sin to another. It is not religious 
fervor that is taking you to Rome — -^ar from it — but anger and 
resentment; a secret hope that your absence will awaken a long- 
ing for you in the heart of your unloving, cold husband. ” An 
indignant motion from the baroness had no effect upon the 
stern- visaged woman before her. ‘‘You can not deceive me 
any more than our worthy Father Franciscus. We have been 
painfully observant how you are wasting your hfe in the en- 
deavor to rule the man who worships nothing but his miserable 
art, and if you did succeed! What a pitiful victory! Conquer 
yourself! You have lost all stability; you have become a ca- 
pricious character; you make resolutions only to break them. 
But I am now authorized by Pater Franciscus and the sisters 
who have watched your childhood to say to you: ‘ Thus far, 
and no further. ’ You have resolved on making this Romish 
pilgrimage in a spirit of boundless selfishness, and your penance 
for this sin consists in conquering the unholy fire consuming 
you, and setting on this journey with a contrite heart at once! 
No ‘ turning back ’ in self-indulgence as you have done for 
years; no caprice; no parting sorrow, not even sickness must 
turn you now. If need be you are to be carried to the travel- 
ing-carriage. The journey must be undertaken. ” 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


89 


As if driven, the baroness retreated backward toward the 
iioor. This woman^s chains reached from the spot upon 
which she stood to the very foundation of the holy convent. 

‘‘ Who said I would turn back — that I would change my 
mind?^' she replied. ‘‘ I shall start for Eome to-morrow, 
though I have to be dragged sick unto death from place to 
place.’’ Then she went in-doors to alarm the house with her 
preparations for the pilgrimage. 


CHAPTER Xn. 

Several days have passed since that exciting morning. 
Silence reigned in the second story of the Pillar House. The 
blinds were drawn, and the doors were locked and barred. 
They were not even to be opened for airing, was the last order 
of the baroness. 

Baron Schilling was in his studio; a passing shower had 
scattered its millions of diamond drops upon the freshened 
foliage, and cleared the sultry air around the place. The birds 
were singing gratefully, and the sky looked down over all, with 
every cloud removed from its blue face. 

This change in nature had not been noticed by the artist be- 
fore his easel. He was gazing upon a summer night scene, 
glowing with the torch-lights that reflected their red tints from 
the windows of a palace nestling in a park of monster trees, 
and looked real enough to leave an impression that the sun- 
light of the studio must be submerged in their fierce glare. 

The hush of the place was broken by the monotonous and 
dreamy ripphng of falling water behind the heavy folds of a 
curtain of green vapor that covered the whole south side of 
the atelier. 

The melancholy ripphng and dripping seemed part of the 
heavy atmosphere of that summer night on the canvas, on 
which a glimpse of fountain spray could be seen here and 
there among the trees, brought out by the torch-lights. 

Wrapped in his dreams, that bore him far from reality, the 
artist labored. He did not see. the door open, nor hear the 
light footfall of the young girl who entered. 

‘‘ Baron Schilling, the strangers have arrived.” 

He started at the sound of Hanna’s, voice, but hastened int« 
the garden, murmuring: 

“ My Felix’s children!” 

When he reached the house he found the doors wide open, 
and servants bringing in trunk after trunk. On the floor, 
beside the remains of a small trunk that had contained 


BO 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


hats and innumerable fancy articles, laces, ribbons, ete. , knelt 
the maid Minna, balancing on her hand a ruin that had once 
been a lady^s hat, and had just been unearthed from the 
tumbled mass of what was left of the trunk. 

The flute-like voice that re-echoed from the marble walls so 
sweetly one night eight years ago again resounded with its elfin 
laughter. 

“Clumsy people she scolded, merrily, “to abuse one^s 
effects like that; that can only happen in good old Germany. 
But I^m awfully provoked about it. That hat was the pretti- 
est thing! — and now look at it! ha, ha, ha! Bah! don’t make 
such a face about the thing, Minna; am I to blame for the de- 
struction?” 

She pushed with her little foot a bolt of blue ribbon back 
from whence it had rolled. Jewelry was abundant about 
her, and every movement created a rustling of rich garments. 
She lifted her hands to arrange the curls that were crushed 
about her face, but held them out the next instant in joyous 
greeting to the entering lord of the manor, as she rushed to 
meet him. “ Here we are, cher baron! Great Lord! how am 
I reminded of poor Felix, in seeing you again! Who would 
have thought it! that I should be a widow so soon — and so 
young! Poor fellow! and he lies over there now all alone! 
Oh, he suffered so much, it was terrible! But, in reality, 
Felix was dead to me when he received that awful wound. I 
can’t bear to see any one suffer. A sick-room is a hell to me 
— so dark and somber; and the frightful groans; the whisper- 
ing nurses — these things depress me so that I always run away 
from it.” 

She turned, as her attention was attracted by an iron-bound 
chest the men were bringing in. It evidently contained some- 
thing weightier than the other baggage, to judge by the puffing 
and blowing of the bearers. 

“ We take up considerable room, don’t we?” the little lady 
continued, with a merry laugh, pointing to the luggage; “ and 
we have met with a mishap, too. Do you see that something 
there that Minna is wagging about so mournfully? It used to 
be the sweetest little bonnet — I got it in Hamburg for second 
mourning. And look at that trunk! Did ever any one see 
such clumsy work before?” 

The little hands Baron Schilling had taken sympathetically 
in his own were suddenly dropped. The graceful little being, 
with her butterfly soul, had returned as she had gone. She 
plucked only the thornless blossoms of life. She ran away 
from the field of sorrow. The two tears that had dimmed her 


m THE SCHILLIETGSCOURT. 


91 


•yes a moment before were doubtless honest tears, but they 
were lost in the dimpled laughter over a broken trunk and a 
crushed bonnet. 

“ Did my people do that?’^ he asked, shortly. 

‘‘Oh, goodness, no! That was done on the cars. Pshaw! 
there'^s no harm done! I shall at once send to my farmer mil- 
liner in Berlin, and have that hat replaced. She will be more 
than delighted to get my custom ag — She paused, with a 
shy look behind her. The baron followed her glance, and, for 
the first time, noticed the group waiting silently in a corner of 
the corridor.^ 

Those stony-faced marble guardians of Schillingscourt had 
certainly never looked upon such an ebony-black, kinky-headed 
human being as the one standing on its marble flags now. 

A negress! How the fe’ervants passing to and fro stared at 
her, while she smiled good-naturedly at them with thick, red- 
lipped mouth. 

She held a little girl on her arm, a pale, dark-eyed child, in 
a white cashmere cloak. The little thing seemed frightened; 
she clung with frail arms about the woman’s neck, and pressed 
her little white face close to the black cheek. 

Near one of the statues close by stood a lady, holding a boy 
about seven years old by one hand, the other resting on the 
pedestal of the marble deity. The widow’s costume was hght- 
ened by the gray and white half-mourning, but this lady was 
dressed in deepest black, without the least relief, and she ap- 
peared like a statue of Night with her long veil and drapery, 
by the side of the sculptured marble. Two large serious eyes, 
in a most beautiful feminine face, were waiting the movement 
of the widow with a decided frown. 

“ My task-master is vexed,” Lucille murmured, with a pout. 
“ Come, baron. Lady Mercedes don’t like to be kept waiting. 
She is the most stuck-up being, this cotton princess!” 

Baron Schilling walked quickly to ward the group, that began 
to show life now. The lady bent over the boy until her crape 
veil, which had been thrown back and fell about her person 
like a mantle, drooped over her face and covered it as she 
whispered a few words, and then led the little fellow to the 
master of the house. 

“ My papa sends his love to you. Uncle Arnold. He bade 
me give it to you before he went to grandpapa in heaven,” the 
boy said, in pure, fluent German. 

With deep emotion the baron embraced the child and kissed 
bdjn repeatedly. How like he was to the fair-haired boy who 


I 92 IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 

P' never found a home in the Hawk^s Nest. ” This child should 
have a happier life. 

■V ‘'You shall he mine — my brave boy, my Jos6/^ said he, 
affectionately. 

“ Yes, cher baron, do take pity on him; I never can bring 
I him up in the world! I am too young — such a baby-mamma, 
as Felix always called me — Jose and I are more like brother 
and sister — he only laughs at me when I attempt to be sensible. 
fp Pshaw! the idea of being his mamma — see, baron, this is more 
like it — that is my sweet baby, my Pauly, we belong together; 
she is my idol, you must know — are we not ahke in every 
i feature?^' 

I The baron made no reply. He turned to the other lady; 
J she had remained passive until now, when, with an imperious 
gesture, she ordered the iron-bound chest to be set down at his 
I feet. The action was so thoroughly that of one accustomed to 
I commanding a host of slaves that the gentleman stepped back 
- a pace. 

V Lucille observed it and smiled spitefully; but she went 

through the form of a tardy introduction. Then Mamselle 
i Birkner appeared and announced that the rooms were ready 
\ for the travelers. 

“Thank Heaven that we are housed once more!^^ Lucille 
r exclaimed; “ I am tired to death; I am literally yearning to 

i, lie down where I can stretch my limbsF^ she limped from one 

j' foot to the other with the action of a tired little bird. 

I “ Come, Mercedes, let us make ourselves comfortable.^' 

5 Mercedes moved not an inch from the spot. 

“ Is the lady of the house sick?" she asked, fixing her large 
eyes for the first time upon her host. 

■ With visible embarrassment the baron replied: 

“ My wife is in Rome just now. " 

' Lucille burst into a merry laugh. 

i “You don't say so, clier baron! ‘Just now,' indeed! I 

might have guessed something of the kind. The lady is a ht- 
• tie peculiar." 

I Mercedes said nothing, but she buttoned her gloves again, 
I drew the veil over baby Pauly's face, and, taking Jose's hand, 

I then quietly remarked, though her eyes flashed indignantly, 

I as she moved toward the door: 

I “Will you kindly direct us to the nearest hotel, sir?" 
t Under any other circumstance, madame, you would be 

I justified in declining hospitality in the absence of the mistress 

I of the house," the baron impressively replied in a low tone; 

“ but remember you are not come as a visitor, but on a miesioii 


m THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


03 


in the accomplishment of which this location is necessary. 
My poor friend surely did not believe that his last fervent 
wishes could be frustrated by an inconsiderate act. I do not 
know how long my wife will be absent; but;, until her return, 
you will be the only occupants of Schillingscourt, with the ex- 
ception of the servants. My quarters are in the garden yon- 
der, in my atelier. 

When the yvord ‘‘ mission left his lips, the lady turned; 
when he had finished speaking she bent her head assentingly 
and followed, as he led the way, with Lucille clinging to his 
arm, the servants blinking curiously after the whole party, as 
they disappeared in the apartments prepared for them. 

‘‘ Nobody offered tapay the driver, so I had to do it,^’ one 
of the domestics grumbled. ‘‘ I wonder if 1^11 see my money 
again — well, Iffl put it down to ‘ house expenses. ^ What ^es 
the baroness will make! I heard her tell Miss Riedt, the day 
before she went away, that they were nothing but a pack of 
Spanish beggars. It looks very much like it. There is noth- 
ing in the trunks but clothes — and in that iron-bound thing 
there, I guess there may be some books — it's heavier than the 
other baggage," the man continued, pointing to the chest he 
had assisted in depositing before Lady Mercedes; “ and Birk- 
ner says the baron became acquainted with them in Paris. I 
don't know, I'm sure. I wasn't along the last time he was 
there. But the mistress has got her back up on account of 
him inviting them — a blind man can see that — six of 'em — 
Heigho! all to be fed — and the mistress is a close accountant; 
every penny spent in the kitchen is noted, and every bottle of 
wine not emptied at the table she keeps her eyes on. Look out 
for the fun! We'll not be rid of these Moorish monsters very 
soon, and a nice row the mistress will make!" 


CHAPTER XIII. 

The baron led his guests toward the room with carved 
walls, where eight years before Lucille had taken tea with 
Felix. It was just as she remembered it then, only the silver 
had been taken from the massive sideboards, and replaced with 
plain chinaware. Hanna stood before them taking a last sur- 
vey, with duster still in hand. 

Lucille gave one glance into the apartment, then drew back 
indignantly. ‘‘But, my dear baron," she exclaimed, “you 
are surely not going to put us in that great barn of a room, 
where spooks haunt the walls, and tramping and sighing make 
night hideous! Don't you recollect how your wife was fright' 


94 


m TH-R SClTTLLTXrTSCOUTlT. 


ened lliiil evening? Ugh! wluit a cross face you are making, 
it^s enough to scare one; can 1 help it if my foolish little head 
won’t forget such awful things? There is the identical spot 
— she pointed to the wall where the lounge with its green silk 
pillows stood— that is where your wife sat when she felt the 
cold breath upon her — ” 

“ Lucille, don’t be a baby! Think of Jose,” Mercedes in- 
terrupted. Her low resonant voice, that lent a singular charm 
to the German language, at this moment evinced considerable 
vexation, and she took the little lady by the hand with decided 
energy and led her into the room. 

Like an ill-natured and spoiled child, Lucille jerked away 
her hand, saying, petulantly: ‘‘Pshaw! I’d rather be a baby 
than play Grandmother Wisdom! Why should not Jose know 
that this room is haunted — absurd! Ask your Deborah there ” 
— she pointed to the negress — “ she knows some awful stories 
about ghosts, one more blood-curdling than the other. While 
you were cooped up with Felix, reading the newspapers to him, 
1 sat out on the veranda and listened to the stories she used to 
tell Jose. We don’t know which of us was the most scared, 
do we, Jose?” 

The negress gave a glance of guilty fright at her mistress, 
and began hastily removing Pauly’s wrappings. Lucille, how- 
ever, took off her gloves, hat, and cloak, and cast piece upon 
piece at Minna, 'who caught them like an adept at the business. 
Then the little lady curled up cozily on the nearest divan like 
some pet kitten, saying: 

“ So be it then. I have at present but one desire, and that 
is to rest. I hope, cher baron, your noisy ghost will have the 
goodness to abstain from his meanderings in broad dayhght at 
least. Ugh! was he not a self-murderer, or something akin 
to it? He was a thief — or was it not the man who betrayed 
the dear good old baron — ” 

“ He was neither thief nor traitor, our good Adam.” The 
baron cut short the gossiping lady very curtly, looking solicit- 
ously at the young lady before the sideboard, who had sud- 
denly created a clattering among the china there. Her face 
was ashen pale, and she fairly glared at the chattering woman. 
The baron motioned for her to take the loaded-down Minna 
into the adjoining room, and as she passed him, he placed his 
hand gently upon her shining braids, saying with affectionate 
sympathy: “ We know better, don’t we, Hanna?” 

Lucille bounced from her reclining attitude. 

“ What?” said she, “ Hanna? Is that large, handsome per- 
son the barefooted little thing — Adam’s child — who*—” 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUET. 


95 


He approached her with hasty strides. 

“ My dear lady, may I beg you will considerately drop such 
reminiscences?’^ he interposed, without attempting to disguise 
his annoyance. “You know what you came hither for; and 
you know that the servants are not to suspect even who you 
are. ” 

“ Sure enough! I’ve got my lesson learned. I am a friend 
of yours from Paris. I am to inhale this vigorous German air 
for the benefit oi my nerves, etc., etc. A stupid, harrowing 
bore, this character I am to play. •” 

She, the “ idohzed elf,” rather protested at being so rudely 
reproached, and stared at the speaker to that effect; but as her 
eyes made no impression, she curled upon the pillows with her 
head resting on her upraised arms, and coolly said : 

“ Baron Schilling, permit me to tell you something. If I 
had not been frantic to get back to Europe and to the old 
scenes that, little goose, I deserted so senselessly, I should not 
have promised to come here for all the world, be assured of 
that. I never could enter into the idea fully, but poor Felix 
nursed it into a fixed hope during his long sickness, as people 
will hold on to one idea sometimes, and now I ask what is the 
use? — we are rich. ” 

The baron looked up in surprise, but the large proud eyes 
of Mercedes met him with an impressive expression, and she 
laid her finger on her lips in token of silence. 

“ Immensely rich at that,” Lucille continued, not observing 
the by-play between the other two. “ Felix was always in a 
condition to gratify all my wishes; though this childish head of 
mine had been set upon having my carriage-horses shod with 
gold, and the harness inlaid with diamonds, he would have had 
it done. Just now I am kept short enough, owing to the stu- 
pid guardianship I ana placed under and duped by, and led by 
the nose as she sees fit, not to mention other most distasteful 
dictations.” She cast a wicked glance at the window where 
Mercedes stood. “ Bah! I’ll shake it off, don’t you be afraid,” 
she added, with a merrily confident laugh, shaking her curls, 
and hammering the lounge-cushions at her feet with the heels 
of her httle boots. “ Enjin, we don’t need the milk and but- 
ter savings and scrapings that Felix used to tell me about — 
absolutely not!” 

In the interval Mercedes had also removed her hat and cloak. 
The portrait-painter in South Carolina had certainly been mas- 
ter of his art. The face on the porcelain of the thirteen-year- 
old girl and that of the woman of to-day were identical in ten- 
der outline, and the peculiar complexion, the shade and tint 


9I^» IK THE SCHILLTKGSCOUBt. 

to remind you of one of Bernstein^s brightest gradations. She 
stood under the northern sky now, with her great, soulful eyes 
and abundant blue-black hair, form slender and willowy as her 
bearing was haughty, in the same room where eight years be- 
fore a merry tongue had dubbed her humpbacked. 

Having removed her gloves and twisted her mourning-ring 
into proper position, she responded to her sister-in-law^ s remarks 
with coldness. 

The first thing to be considered is, whether the grand- 
mother can be attracted toward the children. 

Lucille started up and put a hand over each ear, exclaiming 
passionately: 

Oh, how tired I am of this grandmother business! Ah, 
cher baron, what an unhappy creature that awful America has 
made of poor little merry Lucille I For months before Felix 
died, this ‘ how to propitiate that grandmother ^ was the con- 
stant and unvarying theme in the sick-chamber, and poor I 
had to nod assent, like a dutiful child, or be reprimanded by 
the physicians and scolded by Lady Mercedes. But I am my- 
self again, and the play is at an end, and ‘ that settles it, ^ as 
the dear, good old baron used to say. But he is dead, too. 1 
wonder what he would say if he knew my children had been 
dragged here for the purpose of ‘ attracting * that ordinary per- 
son he hated so? She had better keep out of my way! It 
won't be well for her to touch my sweet Pauly with her coarse 
kitchen hands. 

She extended one hand triumphantly toward Mercedes. 

“ At home you sneered at my protests, or gave me some 
cutting answer whenever that ridiculous plan was broached. 
Of course Lady Mercedes knew best! But when I pointed the 
old monk^s roost out to you in driving past, your heroism and 
courage vanished with your illusions. You turned pale as a 
sheet. 

Mercedes hither lip and bent over Jose, who remained shyly 
near her, as if afraid of the strange place. 

I know I turned pale, Lucille. I felt the blood receding 
and stilling me, as it has gone ever since I have inhaled this 
German air,^' she said, after a short silence, and her glance 
wandered past the baron, absently, and became lost in bound- 
less distance. ‘‘ I did not believe my nature would rebel 
against it, because father was German ; but I know now that I 
have inherited neither sympathy nor sentiment of kindliness 
from him for the countiy where he was so wretched. 

There was no occasion for her to tell that her warm blood 


IIS' THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 07 

rushed back to its heart so stormily; her deep passionate tones 
betrayed it. 

“ I do not forget my promise to Felix; but I shudder at the 
thought of that old ruined Cloister House. It looks as if 
hunger, misery and vulgarity reined therein; and there I am 
to find the grandmother of our children!’^ 

She inclosed J os^ in a passionate embrace, as if she would 
proudly defy a vulgar attack upon anything belonging to her. 
“lam familiar with my father^s earlier history, but still I 
seem now to find a dark secret in his life, because he found my 
mother^s predecessor in that obscure corner of the earth. 

With unbounded satisfaction Lucille had listened to every 
word while reclining on her couch, toying with the silver tas- 
sels of the cushions. Her piquant little face, with its malicious 
eyes, was fairly beaming with delight at the idea of Lady Mer- 
cedes giving way to her disappointment in the very first hour 
of her arrival, and exposing her Spanish opinion before this 
German nobleman. 

“ How he will see what I have had to endure under this 
‘ trainer,’ ” she thought. However, he was not the nice com- 
panionable Baron Schilling of other days; she thought him ex- 
tremely impertinent in language and manner. Why need he 
attend so closely to this yellow Spaniard’s tirade against Ger- 
many, as if it were gospel? And she, the chief personage, 
Lucille Fournier, Lucian’s widow, that ought to be protected 
as the treasure bequeathed by his friend — she was left to her- 
self, unnoticed, in her sofa corner, as if she were a wooden 
model. The monster! The silver tassel cut the air in a des- 
perate circle, and the little foot kept time upon its cushion. 

Misery, vulgarity, obscure corner!” she reiterated pathetic- 
ally, then burst into a hearty laugh. “ How neatly she has 
described the Cloister estate. I am avenged, gloriously 
avenged ! Can I ever forget the evening we — Felix and I — fled 
from that abominable den! Then we came over here like a 
pair of strayed children — here all was light and elegance — ^your 
wife, cher baron, sat on a chair yonder embroidering — she still 
embroiders, I expect, and — oh! by the way, what has become 
of that little beast Minka, who had such an extraordinary lik- 
ing for portraits?” 

The baron turned upon her fiercely. 

“ Oh, pray don’t — don’t eat me alive!” she cried, with a 
droll expression of dismay. “ My Lord! what have I said out 
of the way now? It appears as if a body must be mute as a 
Carthusian, if it is a sin to inquire after the well-being of your 
wife’s favorite monkey. Why are you angry, any way, cher 


98 !!?■ THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 

baron? On Mercedeses account? Then let your anger sub- 
side. I told her about that amusing little incident long ago. 
She always tried to look terribly bored when a body talks to 
her — puts on a grand sort of air, you know, that is very aggra- 
vating — ^but the story about that portrait she has been forced 
to listen to mercilessly— twice. Bah! I hope you don’t intend 
to do penance because your wife countenanced Minka’s enter- 
tainment, rather than see the portrait in your possession?” 

She was right when* she said the baron was angry; at her last 
words he turned a shade paler. 

‘‘Your powers of imagination are fine, Mrs. Lucian,” he 
sharply remarked. 

“ What!” she stood upon her two little feet in a twinkling. 
“ Do you mean to imply there is no truth in what I have said? 
Folly! why, you gathered up the pieces yourself! and didn’t 
you say you were going to mend it for the baron, your father, 
or for — ” she shrugged her shoulders. “ Well, what do I 
care, I don’t know anything about it!” 

“ Or — for myself,” he quietly remarked. 

She gave a forced little laugh. “ Yes, I recollect. Does the 
portrait still exist?” 

“It does.” 

At this laconic reply, Mercedes rapidly approached. Her 
face had changed color several times during Lucille’s rather 
malicious description. With a haughty smile she now asked 
the baron: “ May I have the portrait again, when it is con- 
veniently handy?” 

He took a plain case out of his breast-pocket and handed it 
to her. This unexpected haste in complying with her request 
confused and piqued her, but, looking up at him, with a 
wicked bit of caprice playing about her little mouth, she let 
the case slide into her pocket without a word. 

At this moment a servant entered with refreshments, and 
the barking of a dog was heard in the hall. 

“Oh, auntie, there is Pirate at last!” Jose joyously cried, 
running out of the door. In another minute he returned with 
his arms around the neck of the great creature who was almost 
supporting the boy. Behind them stood a large square-shoul- 
dered negro, who bowed low before Donna Mercedes, and apol- 
ogized for his long absence, owing to difficulties in gettmg some 
large pieces of baggage out of the depot, and also being delayed 
in securing Pirate’s release. 

Jose lost his timidity now that his shaggy playfellow was 
here, and walked familiarly about the place as if he were in the 
old home oyer the 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUET. 


99 


“ I was awfully afraid sometliiiig would happen to Pirate/^ 
the hoy confidentially chatted ]iow to the baroU;, w^ho was 
stroking the creature^s splendid head. ‘ ^ He howled fright- 
fully in the dog-car, and set the other dogs to howling and 
fighting. I thought they would kill each other. Pirate is so 
wild; Jack says it’s because he eats too much meat — a great 
big dishful. Will" he get as much here, uncle? Where is his 
house? At Aunt Mercedes’s he had such a big one I could 
get into it with him.” 

The baron laughed and said to the servant : 

‘‘ Fix a nice bed for the dog in the small barn.” 

The man scowled at the brute, who had come a little too near 
his shins to suit him once or twice. He had grinned oddly at 
the mention of a ‘‘ great big dish of meat,” and now humbly 
remarked : 

‘‘ Your pardon, master, but the little barn is so close to the 
house, and her ladyship, the baroness, couldn’t stand the bark- 
ing of the dog Count Eeiner made you a present of, and this 
dog barks much louder. The baroness would have him sent 
away.” 

‘‘Oh! uncle; will Pirate be sent away?” Jose exclaimed, 
apprehensively. 

“ Not a bit of it, my boy! He shall stay at Schillingscourt 
as long as you. Come with me. We will fit him up comfort- 
able quarters over in my lodgings.” 

Bowing to the ladies, he motioned for Jack, the negro, to 
follow; and with Pirate bounding ahead, mad with freedom’s 
joy, they left the room. 

“ Thank God, that noisy monster is gone!” Lucille, sighed, 
sinking among her pillows once more. “ The disagreeable 
ashen-gray lady baroness and I fully harmonize on this one 
point at least,” she added in somewhat broken English, so 
that the servants present would not understand. “ J objected 
from the first to this addition to our party, but, as usual, my 
protest had no weight. Master Jose insisted on having Pirate, 
and Master Jos6 had his way.” 

She lifted her head to scrutinize the waiter Mamselle Birk- 
ner presented. 

“Mercy! coffee in this intolerable heat? No, my good 
woman, I’d rather be excused. Please order me some vanilla- 
or strawberry-ice. I am perishing. ” 

The good-natured, and a little corpulent, housekeeper, who 
had “not sense enough to reach her little finger, ” according 
to the baroness’s judgment, stood deeply meditative, and very 
much embarrassed for an answer, 


100 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


Ah;, no ice, I suppose queried LuciDe, enjoying the 
jnamselle^s distressed attitude; ‘^well, nerer mind, a glass of 
champagne will do. 

Mamselle Birkner turned in dumb helplessness toward the 
servant, who was about to make himself scarce: ‘‘Eobert — 
you — get it. 

“ I regret very much,’^ said this personage, with wounded 
dignity, “ that my authority in this department is so limited. 
My mistress, the baroness — 

Lucille's voice sounded in a ripple of silvery laughter: I 
will thank you for a glass of fresh water, then. " 

The man retired; and Birkner, with a bow for Lady Mer- 
cedes, who had acknowledged every attention with lady-like 
politeness, also left the room. 

‘‘Well, that is too good!" Lucille laughingly exclaimed. 
“ Her gracious ladyship has taken the keys of the wine-cellar 
with her!" With a victorious chuckle, she sprang to a sit- 
ting position and brushed the curls from her face, and then 
closed her hands in an embrace around her knees, while watch- 
ing, with wickedly twinkling eyes, the exciting pace of her 
sister-in-law up and down the floor. There was nothing in 
the peculiar appearance of this young woman, in feature, com- 
plexion, or form, to indicate German origin. Just now she 
was the picture of storm-tossed desperation, from which she 
was struggling to escape. 

“ What did I tell Donna de Valmaseda?" Lucille mock- 
ingly asked; “was it an exaggeration when I described this 
Baroness Schilling as the most contemptible woman upon God’s 
earth; the ne plus ultra of env}^ and malignant jealousy? 
Ugh! she is ugly as sin, and can't endure decent-looking 
people. But she is clever, that I must concede. The kind 
woman has reduced the house to a condition that self-respect- 
ing persons, with a particle of pride in their composition, could 
not submit to — the best way to be speedily rid of us. And 
now, if I may ask, Donna Valmaseda, what next? Baron 
Schilling — ' ' 

“ Is a flsh-blooded German !" rang out the voice of the angry 
Mercedes. 

“ At last!" 'Cried the delighted Lucille, bounding from her 
sofa, and, opening the door to the adjoining room, called out: 

“ Minna, not an article is to be unpacked but some night- 
clothes!" Then she ran to the window where Mercedes had 
remained standing for a moment, and rushed into speech with 
the energy of a smith who ‘! strikes the iron while it is hot." 

“ li Felix had known how we should be received here he 


IN' THE SCHTLLTNGSCOURT. 


101 


would never have asked us to come to this spook-haunted den. 
The rooms had evidently been deserted by the lady for that 
reason, and how neatly she has cleared away all evidence of 
comfort and elegance, the excellent woman! Do you see that 
cracked and mended and mutilated ware on the sideboard? 
That beggarly stuff has been hunted out of the store-room 
dust for our benefit I Eight years ago those boards were loaded 
down with magnificent snver and cut-glass. I recollect it well, 
for I had to confess with vexation that mammals beautiful sih 
verware would not bear comparison. Do you suppose the dear 
lady was afraid some of her valuables would cling to our 
fingers?^ ’ 

Like a little fluttering bird she nestled up to the woman she 
was maliciously inciting to rebellion, as she tried to catch the 
expression of her face to see the effect of her words. 

‘‘ Of course we shall go to Berlin now, won’t we, Mercedes?’^ 
she coaxingly queried and pleaded. ‘ ‘ There is absolutely noth- 
ing else left for us to do. Eelix desires a German education 
for his children. There is no better place than Berlin — real 
German is to be had there; and for me it would be such hap- 
piness, such joy!” She pressed her hands to her head as if to 
keep it from bursting with the bhssful contemplation. “ To 
be sure, grandmamma is dead, and mamma has been silly 
enough to elope with one of her ardent admirers, but that 
doesn’t matter; I have loads and loads of friends there who 
were perfectly erazy about me. Good heavens! I believe I 
should even be glad to see that old dotard. Prince Konsky, 
again. We leave here on the first train in the morning, don’t 
we, Mercedes? I don’t, for my part, care a snap”— snap 
went the little fingers — for tlie indignity this runaway man 
has endeavored to put upon me; but you, Mercedes, you!” 

An expression of pain hovered on the lady’s lips, but was re- 
pressed instantly. Her glance continued its far-away stare, 
but her bosom heaved tumultuously as she strove for com- 
posure. It was evident she did not intend to commune 
familiarly on the subject of their troubles with this yolatile 
being, whose constant prattle only hampered her own thoughts. 

‘‘ Well, Mercedes?” queried the eager little woman with the 
intensely green scintillating eyes. 

“We remain. I have come hither from across the sea to 
fulfill the last wishes of my brotl^er. I will and shall not re- 
treat.” 

Lucille turned away, brushed past the astonished servitor who 
had entered with the desired water, and banged the door after 


102 


m THE RCHILLT^s^GSCOURT. 


her as she entered the adjoining room, to pour out her sorrow* 
into the sympal hizing ears of Minna, her maid. 


CHAPTEE XIV. 

ScHiLLiNGSCOURT presented a changed aspect within the 
last few days. Pedestrians slackened their pace in passing the 
iron fence for the purpose of observing the scene within. 

The two negroes were the first to attract public attention. 

Jack, the large, shining black man, favored the pillar hall 
with his presence for hours at a time; leaning against one of 
the tall, white, flower-crowned columns, and watching delight- 
edly the sprays from the fountain as they fell in millions of 
diamonds into the rippling lakelet. Or he amused himself 
scattering crumbs upon the stone steps for the sparrows, while 
the chubby Deborah waddled about in her percale dress of gay 
colors, and a bright-ribboned Swiss cap on her woolly head, 
panting to keep up with her little darling Pauly, whose toddling 
feet strove to time themselves to the motions of Jose and his 
frisky playmate. Pirate. 

This was the scene, and the noisy company that attracted 
again and again the curious public, who were accustomed to 
witness here the most aristocratic quiet, in which the tall, gray- 
trailed figure (always muffled in a shawl) of the haughty 
baroness, was wont to indulge in her solitude. Xow there was 
fluttering butterfly colors, and gay balls and hoops sailing 
through the air, and merriment resoimded through trees and 
shrubs. Here lay a toy sword, there a neglected doll carriage, 
and the little strangers who made themselves at home so readily 
on German soil were handsome as angels and dressed like 
princes. 

Then they were puzzled among wfflat species to place the 
little being who hovered about the place with her mischievous 
pranks — was she child or maiden who preserved her childish 
seeming past the teens?^^ She generally appeared on the 
rush, made a dash at tree or shrub, and gathered some of its 
foliage to devour it between her glistening pearly teeth; or she 
tramped with her high-heeled boots over flower-beds to pluck 
a flower to put among her curls, or masticate it, as the humor 
happened to be. The public gazed upon the scene as if it 
were a play, and never tired of admiring the little creature, 
though the scene changed to the double avenue, and she lay 
among a lot of silken pillows wnth one slippered foot dangling 
from its quantities of lace and ruffles, keeping time to the 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOUBT. 


lOS 

caprice of her temper. The hand-bell was also kept busy then, 
summoning the maid, first for one thing and then for another, 
until the table was piled up with nectar flasks, bonbon boxes, 
aromatic salts — and the humor became somewhat improved, 
the children drew near, and all began to nibble. But that this 
little Puck-like creature, with her moods and miscLief, was 
the mother of the two ravishing blonde-haired children, no one 
for a moment imagined. ^ Surely not the old woman who stood 
at the gable window of the Cloister House so much lately. 
She never leaned out, nor indeed turned her head toward the 
despised parterre; but she let her eyes rest, as if magnetized, 
upon the fair boy in the navy-blue suit, who romped upon the 
lawn and by-paths; and when his voice resounded in command- 
ing Pirate to retire from forbidden ground, those toil-hardened 
hands upon the window-sill involuntarily clutched at it in sup- 
port, and the blood mounted to the pale face with incredible 
amazement. Baron Schilling had placed his own rooms at 
Lucille'^s service the first evening of their arrival. He had 
migrated to his atelier. The little lady had hurried to take 
possession of them with her maid and baggage, as if a veritable 
spook were already upon her footsteps. There she had the 
room flooded in light — Lucia could endure no dark corners. 
She declared she loved to bathe herself in light, and live on 
the delicious spices that scented the house from top to bottom 
when Minna superintended the dainties that were being baked 
to order for her little mistress, and the dainty clothes she wore 
were likewise highly perfumed, and the little feet that trem- 
bled with a native longing to be ever dancing and tripping, 
were encased in satin-lined slippers, and down the silvery 
throat constantly ran the fairest wines. As if the Lord had 
provided nothing else to quench thirst, grumbled Robert, 
who had been ordered by Baron Schilling to provide the finest 
and most expensive ones for what his mistress had termed 
“Spanish beggars.'’^ But notwithstanding their grumbling, 
the servants were charmed with the “ gracious little lady,"*^ 
who always had a merry word or saucy sally for them in pass- 
ing. Quite the reverse of the lady who, with the children and 
her colored servants, remained in the rooms originally intended 
for them. Her presence animated them with a constant war- 
ring between the involuntary respect she inspired and the 
estimation servants generally place upon what they term the 
“airs of a bjeggar.^^ She never conversed with these, and 
simply acknowledged their daily greeting with an inclination 
of her head more haughty than the mistress herself; and they 
disliked her for it, yet when she approached their rude jokes 


lOi 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


and laughter were silenced, and they assumed attitudes of 
respect. 

She was a gloriously beautiful woman, and majestic, not- 
withstanding her slender, willowy form. She usually wore a 
black lace dress through which the olive tint of her shoulders 
gleamed. The glowing black eyes had an earnest look, pecu- 
liar to the thoughtful face. None of the house domestics were 
allowed in her apartments; her own servants attended her en- 
tirely. The evening after they were installed Birkner was 
called into the room for the purpose of receiving the bed-linen 
belonging to the hous^. She was amazed and dazzled by the 
change which had been made there. She related that the lady 
slept under white satin coverlets, and between linens edged 
with lace, that would put to shame the baroness’s finest state 
toilet trimmings. The toilet-tables glittered with gold and 
silver ornaments, and the hand-glasses and cases were inlaid 
with diamonds — “ such a lot of them! more than the mistress 
ever owned.” 

Fudge!” said Robert, who knew all about it, of course. 

Imitation, every one of them; or Bohemian, at the most! 
And what if they are real.^ The mistress said they had lost 
everything during the American war; possibly they saved these 
few valuables from the wreck; but how long will they be able 
to keep them? When they can’t get us to support them any 
longer — and surely they won’t stay here forever — then these 
stones will go, one after the other. For people must live — 
and money, they have none; that is an established fact. Mind 
what I tell you; this thing will go on at our expense, until our 
gracious mistress puts an end to it in a hurry. ” 

The wrath of the prophesying Robert was tremendous when 
. the grand piano was brought into the house, that Lady Mer- 
cedes had “ fetched from over the sea.” A dog and a piano 
at Schillingscourt! two outlaws, that were allowed no foothold 
there. When! oh, when would the mistress return and the 
fun begin? The close-mouthed negroes were another source of 
g^rievance to the other servants. They both spoke a tolerable 
German, but could never be induced to gossip about their 
mistress and her circumstances — a direct question brought a 
simple “ yes ” or “no,” and Minna, who was wrapped up in 
her mistress and her interests, was likewise “ tongue-tied,” 
beyond the statement she made in regard to Lady Valmaseda, 
when questioned about that lady’s husband. She informed 
them that he had fallen in battle, and only wedded an hour 
before his death, by the chaplain of the regiment. Good 
Mamselle Birkner wept tears of sympathy for the widowed 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 105 

bride, who became an object of tender interest to the listening 
males; but it made the lady none the less unapproachable. 
In fact, they became 'more shy of her when, in passing, her 
velvet black eyes happened to fall upon any of them with their 
coldly foreign glances. Only once daily she left her apart- 
ments to promenade in the double avenue. She had never 
been in the garden where the studio was, although she had 
been irresistibly attracted by the familiar leaves and flowers 
behind the glass panes of the garden-house and the lovely 
spray from the fountain. But she resisted the inclination 
bravely, and turned as if to count the trees that formed the 
avenue. The master of Schillingscourt respected most strictly 
the invisible barrier behind which this daughter of the tropics 
had isolated herself, as if averse to come in contact with any- 
thing German. He avoided meeting her; for him a brighter 
existence had dawned with the arrival of the children; the 
easel stood deserted, and the palette showed no moist pigment. 

If the baroness could see that the grinning people remarked 
when they saw him with Pauly lifted high up in his arms, 
showing her the birds^ nests in the trees, and permitting her 
to pull his wavy whiskers, or romp with her and Jose, and like 
a happy boy play at throwing pebbles into the fountain lakelet, 
to see w^ho could throw the furthest,^*’ while laughter mingled 
with their childish joy! 

How can any human being laugh like that, with such an 
ov;l for a wife?'’^ grumbled Lucille, as she skipped by her sister- 
in-law in the avenue. 

It was intolerably hot, but under the shade of those trees 
there was no occasion to use the little parasol, so Donna Mer- 
cedes closed and threw it on a table near. She had, owing to 
the intense heat, not changed her morning-dress of India 
muslin. The soft, white material, that fell veil-like about her 
person, brought out her pale creole complexion, and the heavy 
hair, caught low in the neck in a net, shone black as a raven^’s 
wing. She could readily be taken for a type of the women of 
whom it was said lived in Sybarite luxury — pampered planta- 
tion princesses, whose tiny feet floated heedlessly over pros- 
trated slaves as if they were passing over a carpeted floor, but 
in whose small hands slumbered a power almost masculine, 
that could be brought to bear in chastisement upon its object 
with sudden energy. 

Her glance was less circumscribed than usual to-day. She 
knew that the baron had left the house for the city, and not a 
.servant happened to be about. There stood the atelier, with 
its white walls upon a backg roun d of clustering pines, with 


106 


m THE SCHILLINGSCOUKT. 


tlieir fringes of pale-green cones. Adjoining ifc was tlie hot* 
house, from the glass panes of which gleamed and reflected 
the golden glistening sun. Thousands of centifolia blossoms 
nestled in their native hedges; corn-flowers, buttercups, and 
great, round-headed clo\^er were waved into variegated billows 
by the gentle breeze; lavender and thyme exlialed their sweet 
odors upon the air. The little silvery water-run that fed the 
fountain was bordered with pale bine forget-me-nots. Away 
over yonder was a dense thicket, as it appeared to the ranging 
eye. It was the edge of the Cloister estate. Within it were 
splendid fruit-trees in abundance, but not one ornamental 
shrub. From thence came a strong smell of cabbage, beans, 
and other vegetable scents, from which whole clouds of butter- 
flies fled, to feast upon the blossom-honey of Schillingscourt 
gardens. 

That horrid Cloister estate! The shingles on the weather- 
beaten, slanting roofs were crooked and moldy. Through 
their innumerable cracks the hay and straw tufts pressed them- 
selves. The old stone wall lay crumbling in ruins wherever 
the heavy, creeping ivy had not mercifully hidden its decay. 
The barn-yard racket came over upon the summer wind, bear- 
ing also its complement of smells, and there was a decided 
curling of a pair of lovely lips as Donna Mercedes perceived it. 
Little Jose was playing with a white rabbit that had been 
given him by the coachman. Intensely delighted with his 
present, he followed it about under the Palm Avenue, but sud- 
denly it made a dash for the tall grass, and disappeared before 
the little fellow could reach it, impeded as his short legs were 
by the entangling green element. 

Pirate had been, so far, a silent and wondrously amiable 
witness of his white rivaPs antics, from liis position of repose 
on the steps of the hot-house, but the moment Jose began to 
run after the rabbit he bounded into the grass on the chase 
also. The rabbit leaped for dear life and made for cover in the 
open door of the hot-house, its pursuers following like mad. 
An instant later there was a grand crash within. Jose 
screamed, and the /)ry was echoed by his mamma. Donna 
Mercedes hastened toward the scene. The rabbit had hidden 
behind some plants in tubs, and Pirate, in pressing through 
the place with his big body, had upset a large plant that went 
splashing into the basin of a small fountain, v/hipping, with its 
waxen solid foliage, the water upon all its surrounding plants, 
until they trickled with millions of diamond sparks and scat- 
tered a perfect wave upon the marble flags. Lucille had re- 
treated to the door, and shook the water from her clothes and 


m Tfil3 SC&ILtlKGSCOURT. 


lOf 

Curls, and carefully mopped her drippiiig face with her dainty 
handkerchief while scolding Jose; but directly after burst into 
a hearty laugh, as Pirate upset, in shaking the water from his 
hack like a drenched lion, several of the smaller plants, and 
then took to flight as if conscious of the mischief he had done. 
Mercedes remained standing on the threshold. 

“ What are you doing here, Lucille?’^ she asked, severely, 

“ Good heavens! I am amusing myself; have you any objec- 
tions?’^ the little lady retorted, snappishly, as she stooped to 
pick up an album that lay upon the floor within the wet radius. 

‘ I think the monks must have put poppy-seeds into the 
corner-stone, when Schillingscourt was built, for tedium gapes 
at a body from every hole and corner in the house. But I’m 
not going to sit like a sleepy-head and grow fat before my 
time; don’t expect it from such a nature as mine. I shall es- 
cape the bore wherever I can.” 

She opened the album and began to dry the pages that were 
soaked. “ What a pity! see, this bit of water-color landscape 
is partly obliterated. That good-for-nothing Pirate! I could 
strangle him for his mean tricks. But what are we going to 
do about it now?” she queried, with a dubious shrug of her 
shoulders. “ Oh, well, the ‘ fish-blooded German ’ is my 
friend — a friend of the old, delicious times when I was the 
enfant gate of my mamma’s salons, and knew nothing about 
cotton-bales and that sort of thing. He won’t grumble be- 
cause I ‘ snooped ’ about his place a little during his absence. ” 
With these words she clapped the book shut and entered the 
adjoining atelier. 

Mercedes seemed prepared to go back to her promenade, but 
now paused and involuntarily stared into the room that was 
separated from the green-house by a glass partition. A green 
valour curtain was draped and parted in the center to be 
caught back on either side, thus creating a most pleasing 
semi-light upon a singularly original scene. The studio ceil- 
ing was high; a winding stairway led to a gallery midway along 
the wall on one side, the entrance to which was covered by a 
gobelin curtain. Over the railing was negligently thrown a 
drugget of old Byzantine work, that sent out a perfect ray of 
colors under the skylight, that were reflected in the polished 
equipments of a knight’s armor, and in Grecian mirrors, and 
numberless Venetian curiosities. A graceful and picturesque 
disorder reigned and evidenced the place to belong to a loving 
collector of antiquities. In a cornar lay remains of an ancient 
altar piece, and fragments of an old but peculiar pattern of an 
iron railing, and gigantic folio volumes formed rests for th« 


108 


m THE SCHILLIKGSCOtTRT. 


feet of graceful modern statuettes; cases and tables, marvel- 
ously carved, held antique specimens of Egyptian ware, gob- 
lets, and glass and silver vessels* Brocatelle curtains hung 
around that might have served to inclose the couch of some 
nabob of centuries past. On a stone pedestal stood a large 
bust of a Eoman emperor. Near it was a Japanese screen. 
Stuffed birds of rare plumage were ranged about, mounted on 
Theban pillars, alongside of stony sphinx and relief fragments 
and terra-cotta Pompeian vases, from which sprung fresh 
green broadly sweeping leaves. 

Donna Mercedes found herself at her sister-in-law’s side, 
almost drawn there against her own vohtion. Lucille was 
cunningly stowing the ruined sketch-book under a pile of 
others on a table. 

Well,” said she, ‘‘ what do you think of the bear’s den? 
Don’t my friend understand the art of poetic arrangement?” 

“ Yes, with his wife’s money,” was the contemptuous reply, 
as the speaker walked to the easel standing in the middle of 
the floor; but the further tart speech stopped upon her tongue 
and she stepped back startled. Perhaps the torchlight in the 
picture overcame her with its reahstic glare as it also disclosed 
the group of female figures that had taken flight from the 
palace and sought refuge in the brush. Yes, from the palace 
four women had fled, but a moment ago awakened from a 
peaceful slumber, followed by a murderous hand. The pro- 
tecting darkness had become faithless, and the key to that 
little portal was wanting. One of the women, evidently a serv- 
ant, a strong figure, had cast herself upon the ground, and 
with her fingers under the portal was trying frantically to tear 
it from its iron hold. She, with the kneeling form of a beau- 
tiful young woman with a child in her arms, for whose sake 
this effort of escape was being made, were somewhat in the 
shadow. Not so the other two figures, who were so mercilessly 
exposed by the torch that had been thrown down near them by 
its frightened and fleeing bearer. She would meet death 
bravely, this Huguenot and mistress of the old French chateau, 
with her snow-white hair, over which she had hastily thrown a 
black veil in the flight. She knew the bloodhounds of the 
king would find them however well they were hidden. The 
scent of fanaticism is keen. She looked no longer upon the 
faces of her doomed loved ones, but instinctively she placed 
over the bosom of the young girl clinging to her in a night- 
dress that had become disordered, a portion of her veil, as the 
maiden stared with horrified eyes in the direction of their pur- 
suers. ^ 


log 


IK THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 

“Ugh! that picjture is enough to give one the nightmare/^ 
Lucille exclaimed, breaking the impressive silence with a voice 
shrill enough to embody ifhe idea of the picture. I left here 
with the sketch-books on account of the frightfully realistic 
thing — I took more comfort looking over the sketches in the 
green-house. Horrible! that, picture. Mercedes, what about 
the ‘ fish-blood ^ of a man who can paint like that— don^t you 
think there may be something more than such cold stuff in 
his brains?^^ 

“Bah! the man sold himself !^^ Scornfully Merceaes 
turned away and began to glance over some of the old 
volumes scattered about, but ever and again her glance wan- 
dered from the old-fashioned wood-cuts to the vividly thrilling 
scene on the easel. Suddenly her eyes were attracted to the 
gallery at the head af the winding-stairs, the curtain leading 
to it still rustled from a passing body. 

There stood the artist, and the expression of his face told 
her that he had overheard her remark. An ironical smile 
hovered about her lips, and her glance never faltered, but met 
his indignant eyes like one not accustomed to regretting or 
retracting her utterances. Did not Felix say that he had 
married, without loving, his “ tall cousin,^'’ for the purpose of 
restoring the lost estates to the impoverished Schillings? It 
would do him good to hear how others judged of such an act, 
and how it tarnished even his ideals in their opinions. But a 
rush of blood crimsoned her face after a mementos stare into 
the face up there; and hastily picking up the long train to her 
dress, to leave the apartment she h^ invaded without invita- 
tion, she was constrained to make something of an apology for 
the intrusion. 

He came down the steps and she pointed to the greenhouse, 
saying: 

“Pirate has been transgressing. I heard the noise, and 
fearing your property had been damaged, I inconsiderately be- 
came a trespasser myself. 

“Your presence required no apology, madame,^^ he re- 
joined, coldly; “the studio is always open to visitors from 
home or abroad. An atelier is not a boudoir nor family 
room. With these words he passed by her a^ if she were one 
of the many visitors who came to see some of his celebrated 
works. 

Entering the greenhouse he rearranged the plants that had 
been upset, and noticed, with angry surprise, that the various 
foppt^n sprays at work forining ramtjQW showers upon 


.110 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


the surrounding plants. Tiinnng off one after another of th« 
silver pipes, he remarked impatiently: 

I can^’t imagine what tho gardener is thinking about, he is 
usually so particular in regard to excessive moisture. ^ ^ 

‘‘ Oh, clier baron! that is some of my work,*’^ Lucille cried. 
‘‘ I was perfectly entranced with delight when I saw all the 
pretty stream.s at play. It was a priceless discovery for me, I 
assure you! I curled up on the seat here and nibbled orange 
blossoms. I also rummaged a bit in the studio. Now behold 
how a little busybody like myself seeks entertainment when it 
escapes for one precious moment from the trainer’s rod. But 
apropos, dear baron, what has that unfortunate creature been 
guilty of that she must needs have her eyes put out?” 

She hastened into the studio and returned with a canvas 
stretched on a frame. 

The “ unfortunate ” proved to be a female face surrounded 
with brown waves of hair that probably lacked the golden 
sheen the artist contemplated. The features were completed, 
but a dash of a darkly laden brush had wiped out the eyes, 
leaving a soulless streak of paint dividing the clear white brow 
from the finely curved outlines of the lower part of the face. 
It was evidently an angry blow wielded by a disenchanted 
hand. 

‘‘ The poor blind thing excites my curiosity,” prattled the 
little woman. Were you the monster who did it? — and why 
so cruel, cher baron?” 

‘ ‘ I was convinced the eyes did not belong to a Madonna 
face,” was the scowliug reply to the “ little busybody ” who 
had so indiscreetly rummaged ” among his treasures. He 
took the frame from her and shoved it under a stand. Lucille 
laughed slyly. The baron had doubtless been disturbed in 
some of his private affairs of the heart. Her eyes sought 
Mercedes, who had calmly resumed her “ visitor’s privilege,” 
and was looking at the canvas on the easel again. She did not 
care to pass through the greenhouse ” while her host re- 
mained there, and she knew of no other exit. Besides, the 
little inter-mezzo of the despoiled portrait had chained her 
attention. 

She can’t es6ape the attraction,” Lucille said, pointing to 
her sister-in-law; the scene is a reminder of some of those 
she took part in during the secession war. B-r-r-r!” The 
little lady shook herself. “ Thank God, I saw very little of 
the murderous incendiarism,” she added, cuddling into a low 
chair, and burying her little toes in a bearskin rug on the 
mosaio floor at her feet. When things began to grow serious 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


Ill 


Felix took me and the children to Florida, to the remote 
Zamora estate belonging to Mercedes. South Carolina was 
devastated. Charleston besieged, and Columbia burned, and I 
knew nothing of it until Mercedes arrived one day to prepare 
me for the news — that they would bring Felix directly.-” 

She faltered, and her face became deathly pale. The shock- 
ing recollection overcame her, but she skimmed over it with 
winged lightness. “ Mercedes looked surburned and dilapi- 
dated as a gypsy,” she continued, brushing away a tear. 
‘‘ Felix said she had managed the transportation during the 
long and tiresome journey like a man. She is made of differ- 
ent stuff from myself — to carry sword and pistol and steal 
though the woods for the purpose of surveying the enemies^ 
situation, or to bivouac near a camp-fire, is not to my taste at 
all. But it seems to come natural to the Spanish nature to 
play the Maid of Saragossa, regardless of beauty or complexion. 
Mercedes could not sit for Desdemona, as mamma did, with 
her lovely arms, cher baron ” — the speaker's eyes glittered 
maliciously — ‘‘ for she has a saber cut on the upper part of her 
right arm, that encircles it like a crimson snake.” 

The elegant, slender woman with the crimson mark scarcely 
hidden by the muslin sleeve, stood before the easel still. 
Baron Schilling followed a sudden impulse and stepped up to 
her. She lifted her eyes to him as if just awakened from a 
dream of fiame and blood. ‘‘ Ah, not so, not so should they 
conquer; who would submit with such lamb-like docility?” 
She pointed to the scene in utter oblivion of the gossiping of 
her sister-in-law. 

“ I intended to portray a woman who faces death for an 
ideal,” the baron replied. 

‘‘ And me!” she exclaimed, impetuously. 

“You battled for proprietary and state rights — ” 

“ Not for supremacy of intellect over the ignorant masses— 
not for the sacred ground of our beautiful homes — for the 
principles founded on our ideals?” She turned her back upon 
him disdainfully and added, bitterly, “ What do you know 
about it here in Germany! You dance blindly before that idol 
‘ Humanity ^ the northern dissemblers have set up, and believe 
in the hypocritical mask covering their burning, envying soul, 
that they might cripple the power of the South, and take from 
it its leading representative rights, and reduce the proud race 
to beggary! Oh! holy German rapture! How you delight in 
the destruction of your white brother to embrace the black!” 

“ There is a vast difference between cutting the cords that 


112 


IN THE SCillLLINGSCOURT. 

mercifully releases the creature from bondage, and taking it 
to our embrace. These dark-skinned human beings—’^ 

‘‘ Human beings?’^ Mercedes scornfully shrugged her 
shoulders. That slender, graceful, won>anly exterior con- 
tained a soul of iron prejudice. 

“Ah! I comprehend now why the German air, that jusi^ 
now is laden with the stagnant injustice brushed from its dark 
corners, is so obnoxious to you. The baron gazed keenly 
into her eyes as he said it. 

“ I have read something about it, yes, and the ‘ brushing ^ 
is done in the usual radical German style, doubtless. ” She 
smiled sarcastically. “ And if these reformers of the world 
happen to sweep away other people’s native rights, that mat- 
ters little to the grand scene- shifters. ” Her voice trembled 
with excitement, and she changed the subject suddenly, as if 
her proud spirit could not endure an emotion tliat had escaped 
her reserved tongue. “ Do you seriously believe we shall suc- 
ceed over there?”’ She inclined her head in the direction of 
the Cloister House. 

‘ ‘ I wish to believe it, because I do not want to lose faith in 
the beautiful instincts and sense of right that I believe lives in 
every womanly heart. But I fervently hope that the decisive 
moment is very remote. ” 

“ And why?” Mercedes turned in the door she was about 
leaving to ask the question, with a look of surprise. 

“ Can you ask, when you see. how happy the children make 
me? I shall lose my pets when the grandmother is reconciled 
— and who is ready to resign a joy that illuminates existence — 
and they love me ” — he hesitated — “ or do you also grudge 
the ‘ German man ’ this blessing?” The question contained 
irony notwithstanding its earnestness. 

“ Bah! How can you talk like that, baron?” Lucille called 
out from the hot-house. “Grudge! Ridiculous! Is not 
Donna Mercedes about to throw my children into that horrible 
cloister den over there?” 

Mercedes ignored the remark utterly, but addressed the 
conversation to the baron. 

“ I never permit myself to think of going against my 
brother’s last wishes; but I confess to have always hoped the 
hard-hearted old woman would decline to recognize her chil- 
dren. Then I would claim the rights of guardianshin with 
which Felix invested me, and say: " They are mine — my crm- 

For the moment she was the embodiment of a passioMtely 


m THE SCHlELlKOSCOtJRT. 113 

tender woman, who woi|ld jealously guard her idols from pro- 
fane hands. 

“ This waiting, so uneventfully silent, is intolerable to me. 
I feel an irresistible impulse, sometimes, to take the children 
to their grandmother, and make an end to the tormenting un- 
certainty at once. I know it will not do,^^ she responded to 
his protesting gestures; ‘‘ but I should like to break the ice — 
to make one step toward the end in view. 

“Will you permit me to examine Felix’s papers in the 
meantime? I am under the impression we shall require some 
documents bearing upon family matters. ” 

“ They are at your command at any time.” 

They left the hot-house. Lucille jumped up and ran after 
them. With her hand in Baron Schilling’s arm, the party 
passed through the avenue of palms toward the Column House. 

“ Ugh! baron, there is that good-for-nothing example of an 
uncle, peering over the wall again,” Lucille exclaimed, when 
they had reached the house. “ Mark my words, he is up to 
no good, spying over here so frequently. I recollect that 
hawk’s beak and the bushy head well. My falcon eyes and 
good memory do not deceive me! His face remains in my 
soul as if photographed there. There, it^ds gone; as it always 
vanishes when I stare at it. The old fox smells a rat. He is 
entirely too much interested in this side of the wall for the 
good of the inhabitants. Mind what I tell you!” 

Donna Mercedes had made the room with the carved panels 
cheerfully habitable. A Steinway grand piano stood on one 
side of the room, and another blank space had been filled out 
with a handsome escritoire whose brackets and shelves were 
filled with books and bric'd-brac. 

hVom one of its private compartments she took a beautifully 
inlaid casket and laid the contents on the table before Baron 
Schilling, saying: 

“ Here are the papers Felix brought from this country when 
he came to America, and this is his marriage-certificate, re- 
ceived from the minister in Columbia, who performed the 
ceremony; these are the children’s baptismal certificates. 
These three documents are invaluable, for they could not be 
replaced were they lost. The church registers were destroyed 
with the burning of Columbia; and this is — ” 

“ The certificate of poor Felix’s death;” the baron finished 
the faltering sentence with tremulous accents himself. “Ah!” 
he suddenly exclaimed, turning around, “do the mice make 
such noises in broad daylight?” But the rattling in the wall 
Jiad ceased again. 


114 


m THE SCHtLIiE-GSCOtJllT. 


Oh, yes — mice!^^ reiterated Lucille, mockingly, as she 
made all speed to leave the room. 


CHAPTER XV. 

In the meantime Jose had punished the overzealous Pirate 
by locking him in his ‘‘ den,-’^ a small room in the rear of the 
atelier; and then, with tearful delight, hugged his frightened 
little rabbit to his breast, watching in wonderment the tame 
pet as it devoured the clover out of his hand. The child^s 
favorite play-ground was around the lakelet under the linden 
shade, where the bees hummed over him in the foliaged roof, 
and the fish cut the water with their gleaming bodies when 
they came to the surface in the chase after crumb or fly, and 
the ducks waddled out, tired with their sailing, to rest their 
bronze, glowing bulk upon the soft grass. To this retreat the 
happy little fellow carried his white pet, and carefully de- 
posited it upon the grass and stretched himself beside it, to 
caress and gaze into its mild, pink eyes, and watch the wonder- 
ful play of its long, transparent ears, until startled by a 
screeching shout of4aughter. 

Over in the Cloister yard, in a pear-tree, close to the hedge 
fence, sat Master Guy. His long, thin legs dangled in the air, 
and his sharp, . white teeth glistened in his laughing mouth like 
some preying animaPs. 

Oh, what a booby! what a sillybub!'^ he shrieked, derisive- 
ly; “ the fool thinks, ^ wonder what he^s got!'’ Say, donT you 
know it^s nothing but a common cuiiicule?'’^ 

A cunicule?^’ The little fellow repeated the new word in 
strange accents, looking from the boy to the rabbit in sur- 
prised doubting. The boy was the strangest marvel to him, 
sitting on that elevated seat as unconcernedly as if he were on 
a chair. Xow he turned on all fours and scrambled along the 
limb with the rapidity of a monkey, slid down the trunk, and 
disappeared for an instant; then followed the rustling and 
crackhng of branches, and the bristling head reappeared near 
the ground in the hedge; then Master Guy stood upon his thin 
legs and ran toward the lake. His presence here had the same 
effect it created in the Cloister yards; the rabbit ran into the 
boscage, and the ducks dived with affrighted cries into the 
water. 

Let it go, you stupid!’^ Guy exclaimed, blocking Jos^^s 
way as he turned to catch his pet again. The little fellow 
obeyed, and stood gazing in amazement at the bold boy, who 


IK’ THE SCHILLTKGSCOTJRT. 115 

could not have been njiore than a year older than himself, 
though he was a head taller. 

Jose had never had a boy playmate, and here one suddenly 
appeared, who could climb with such wonderful agility, and 
who crept through a hedge as if it were the easiest thing in the 
world; and, besides, possessed the important knowledge that 
a rabbit was his nothing but a common cunicule. 

They know me!^^ Master Guy remarked, pointing to the 
scared ducks. “Watch me, I^m going to give ’em a dose 
smack on their back!” and faithfully the well-directed gravel 
stones set the alarmed creatures to beating the water with their 
wings, and shrieking for dear life, while Guy yelled like mad, 
and clapped his thin, sunburned hands for joy. 

Jose’s admiration was boundless; he stared as if fascinated 
at this extraordinary boy with the little cunning eyes, self- 
complacent manners and rude speech, caught from his stable- 
yard associates. 

“ There, they’ve had enough for to-day,” he said, sending 
a last pebble into the water. “ Come along, now! I want to 
show you my lapins. That’ll open your eyes. They are 
something different, I guess, from your mean little cunicule.” 

Jose looked dubiously shy at the spot in the hedge from 
whence the boy had come. There was no opening visible. 

“ I can’t get through,” said he, timidly. 

“ Oh, fudge! I can get through. I opened the place my- 
self, and am over here every day when nobody’s about. Come 
along. It’s right easy. ” 

He ran to the hedge, parted the branches, and vanished in 
no time. 

Josh’s heart beat fearfully with mingled fear and secret de- 
light, the thorns tore his hair, and his blue cashmere clothes 
fared badly; but the green tunnel came to an end upon an 
onion-bed before long. 

What a new world opened here to the little fellow. Ho 
winding gravel paths, and lawns and iron furniture in shaded 
avenues; no lakelets and fountains. Among those vegetable 
rows there was no space for romping childhood. The only 
spot left free for grass was covered with bleeching linen. 
Everything was suggestive of economy and labor — without a 
beautifying element. That was the reason Master Guy crept 
through the hedge. The only thing to attract the childish eye 
was the heavily borne-down berry bushes, with their fruit 
ripening in the sun. 

Guy picked up the whip he had left under the pear-tre^;^ 


116 


m THE SCHILLIKGSCOTJRT. 


and slashed at the bushes in passing, until the lettuce-bedi 
they bordered were strewn with leaves and fruit. 

They arenT fit to eat yet/^ he remarked, vdth a greedy 
look at the green berries that tasked his patience so long. 

He made directly for the middle door of the back building. 
It did not look inviting, hanging crooked upon it’s dragging 
hinges, so weather-beaten and gray. Jose had no idea it could 
be so dark as the darkness that loomed behind it. He clutched 
at the tall boy’s velvet blouse as it closed upon them. 

“ You great lubber; I do believe you are afraid! Take your 
hands away!” commanded his companion, beating them off. 

‘ ‘ This is our wood-shed where I keep my lapins. ” 

The stamping of horses’ feet^could be heard. The dairy air 
came through cracks and broken boards, and daylight began 
to glimmer through the little iron-barred windows, covered 
with grape-vines on the garden side. This uncertain light fell 
upon the inclosure where the lapins were kept, under the 
rickety stairway to the floor above. 

Guy took the unhappy rabbits by the ears, and swung them 
through the air as he mounted the steps, Jose following closely 
upon his heels. The little fellow, who had been guarded like 
a prince from the moment of his birth, now clambered over 
gaping floors, up ladders and neck-breaking steps, unconscious 
of his danger, without a word of complaint, and trying man- 
fully to walk as heavily and courageously as his brave leader. 
But his footstep, nevertheless, does not ring and resound as 
heartily; for his shoes are not “ heeled ” with such “ wonder- 
ful little iron shoes ” as those of his companion. 

Oh, how grand it was to be a regular boy for once! Ho 
Jack or Deborah to hamper, chide and warn everlastingly; no 
danger of stepping on some lady’s long trail at every move, 
particularly mamma’s, and Minna’s, who always made such a 
fuss about it. The fresh-mown hay was splendid to wade in 
up to the knees; and how charmingly startling it was to have 
a hen fly suddenly from a nest and run cackling away, leaving 
the lovely white eggs exposed. How beautifully those myriad 
particles of gold followed the streak of sunshine that came in 
through a leakage in the roof. Some of the shingles were 
weather-beaten enough to leave a view of the yard, where 
chicken and turkey strutted, and several calves trotted awk- 
wardly about under the shade of a tree in which so many birds 
were busily nesting; and over from the corner of a room, the 
door of which stood partly open, came springing a large cat, 
as if she wanted to attack them; but Guy’s swinging whip sent 
Jier flying up the rafters. 


TUT THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


117 

“ Ah, ha! Miez has got kittens,’’ he cried, rushing toward 
an old broken basket, containing three wee little kittens. “ 1 
must tell papa at once. I^ritz will have to drown them — and 
then we will have such fun!” 

Jos6 huddled down by the basket, and gazed with beaming 
eyes upon the pretty little pussies, regardless of Guy’s re- 
marks. This was even a lovelier sight than the nest of young 
wrens Uncle Arnold had shown him the other day. 

He stroked them tenderly and somewhat timidly at first; 
but this girlish gentleness provoked Guy. 

What a granny you are!” he scoffed. ‘‘ The booby treats 
the beasts like Aunt Teresa treats her young turkeys.” 

He grabbed one of them and tried to make it stand on its 
feet; but it only spread its weak legs into a broad straddle and 
cried pitifully. This brought the mother into the room with 
a fierce leap, but she must have had some experience with 
Guy’s lash, for at sight of the whip she sprung up the raft- 
ers again and ran along the ledge on which a lot of old boxes 
and broken crockery stood, and sent them clattering to the 
fioor, in trying to escape the yelling boy with his active whip. 

Hu, hu!” he screamed, and the cat scrambled wildly down 
the rafters once more, and fled out of the door. 

Jose’s tender nature was shocked and grieved by this brutal 
conduct. He placed the kitten back upon its bed of rags and 
watched the cruel chase with dread-expanded eyes. He saw 
the boy still chasing the cat, and heard his step following in 
the adjoining room, and turned his attention to the pretty 
kittens, glad that the noise had stopped. He smoothed the 
rags under them as Deborah was in the habit of smoothing his 
pillow when he went to bed at night; and was delighted with 
the sunbeam that fell upon his stroking hands from the pane- 
less window of the store-room. Then he held them up and 
bathed them in the sunlight, until his attention was attracted 
by the bird that lighted upon the sill to devour the fly it had 
in its bill, and peered with its bead-like black eyes into the 
place, twittering all the time so cunningly. The kittens began 
to cry louder, too, and the boards creaked strangely whenever 
he moved, and everything had become so still. That restless 
boy should certainly have returned. It seemed long, very long, 
since he had gone chasing after poor puss. 

The child turned around iimocently, to see what he might 
be doing so quietly. But no boy was to be seen, and the place 
where the door had been appeared like a shadowy lot of faded 
scrolls and flourishes, thi’ough which the other room could not 
be s^ep, He could fiot compxohcud the gituatiou, that 


118 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


oddly painted space. There was^ of course, a door thai would 
open, and of course the boy was just on the other side of it. 

Jose tried the door, but it would not open; there was no 
handle nor lock to be seen, but where the lock once had been 
there was a little hole through which he could look into the 
dusky outside, where all was deathly still — he could not get 
out through that hole, and the door would not move under his 
hands. 

He uttered a soul-harrowing cry, but held his breath the 
next instant — some one appeared to move outside of the door. 

‘‘Oh, boy, please, good boy, let me out!^^ he wailed, after 
pressing close to the door in a keenly listening attitude. 

Ho reply, no one approached to release him from the four 
imprisoning walls. 

He beat with his little fists upon the door, crying bitterly, 
and calling in heart-rending accents upon Auntie Mercedes — 
Jack — Deborah, upon all who were ever so ready to come a 
this slightest cry — until he sunk exhausted upon the dusty 
fioor. There he cowered up in the “hawk’s nest,” also a 
sweet strayed “humming-bird,” trembling with an inde- 
scribable fear, that once oppressed that other helpless 
one, if he had known it, who was now sleeping an eternal 
sleep under the magnolias so far away! He had been familiar 
with this old store-room, with its age of odds and ends, whose 
days of usefulness were past — this resort for moths that hov- 
ered in clouds above the old spinning-wheels and reels that had 
served the linen closets of the Wolframs for generations; old 
chair frames, upon which the cloth-weaver’s family had sat 
three hundred years ago when they first migrated to the 
Cloister House. In one corner was a collection of coarse, 
broken toys, headless dolls with which the little flaxen-haired 
girl-babies of the unhappy wife of the senator had played. 

The sunshine retreated from the little window. The bird 
had flown at the first affrighted cry. The kittens had gone to 
sleep cuddled together on their rags, and only lifted their 
sleepyheads when Jose broke out anew in sobbing lamenta- 
tions. The little fellow thought of all the awful ghost stories 
Deborah was so graphic in relating, and they glared at him 
from every object about the room, they inhabited the old clock 
frame, and gave life to the old doll trunks with their broken 
arms and legs; he also thought of the stories he had heard 
about lost children and their frightful adventures. 

“ ril never go away again, auntie, never, never!” he 
sobbed, as if he were in her arms once more pleading for 
pardon. 


m THE SCHILLINGSCOUKT. 


119 


The hopeless silence outside continued^ but behind him the 
boards creaked, and lightly tapping feet seemed to move across 
the floor, papers rattled, and the broken crockery clattered. 
A bold rat had asserted a proprietary right, notwithstanding 
the presence of the cat family, and had come to explore among 
the dishes for a feast. This was a more horrible thing than 
ghosts to the child, who had a natural antagonism toward 
‘ mice — and here was such an awfully big one, who might 
jump upon him any moment. 

He sprung from the floor with a loud shriek that sent the 
rat into its hiding-place, but the child ran about half frantic, 
for fear if he paused the creature would return. On, on, pant- 
ing and screaming; but suddenly the bolt was withdrawn from 
outside and the door torn open. 

A large woman appeared before him, and, with outstretched 
arms, he ran to her, crying: “ DonT shut the door again — don^t 
— donT shut the door — I will be a good boy — ^never — ^run away 
again. 

The woman ^s face was deadly pale, and a tremor ran 
through her form, as the childish arms were cast about her 
waist. She took him by the hand and led him out into the 
entry; and there was that big boy who had come from behind 
a chimney, and danced with excess of joy until his iron heels 
echoed his gyrations. ‘‘ How do you like it in there, hey? 
Do you want to play with the kittens any more?’’ he shouted. 

“You coaxed him up here, and locked him in, did you?” 
the woman asked, in a strangely hoarse voice. 

“ Of course — who else?” he retorted, saucily lashing the air 
with his whip, and blinking impudently at her with his little 
sharp eyes. “ But what are you bothering about it for; is it 
any of your business? I can’t bear the dainty cub, he is 
awful green, and follows one like a puppy — ^he wears a lace 
collar, the ape, and his shoes are — ” 

The speech was abruptly cut short. The woman made a 
quick grab for him, and with her strong hand administered 
several sharp blows, then set him upon his feet and pushed him 
toward the open door leading into the house. Amazement 
made the boy mute at first. In all his life before he had never 
been chastised — who would have dared to lay hand upon the 
senator’s idolized son? He only knew that others feared him 
and his whip, and now it was his turn to scream — but only 
after he had been set upon his legs again by the brawny hand 
that had turned him so unexpectedly — and he ran like mad, 
howling like an animal, down the stairs, and the nearer he got 
to the Cloister House the louder he yelped. The servants cam© 


120 


m THE nSCHiLLlNGSCOUET. 


running from all directions, and the senator rushed out t© 
gather his heir in his arms. 

White with alarm, he carried the boy into his room, and the 
hand that passed quietly over the child^s head trembled per- 
ceptibly. 

Master Guy was aware that he was subject to fits. He had 
heard the maids say so and imitate the spasmodic twitching, 
and since that time the attacks were more frequent. Whenever 
things failed to move as he wished, he curled over on his back, 
and twitched arms and legs with commendable accuracy to the 
requirement of fits. At this moment a convulsive rage really 
shook his frail body; he beat about him with hands and feet, 
and bent his head back into the sofa pillow, upon which his 
father had placed him. His condition was certainly alarming, 
but the httle eyes squinted, strangely cunning and observant, 
from under their lids, as the senator hastened toward a closet 
where the medicine was kept for such occasions. 

The screaming was apruptly hushed, the struggling ceased 
as suddenly. The senator turned, startled, to see what caused 
it, and found his son sitting up staring at the opposite wall. 
One of the rudely carved saints had parted with his arm that 
was stretched out in blessing; a bro^ black gap separated it 
from his body. 

Papa, the wall is caving in,^-’ he cried. 

With an almost wild bound, the senator cleared the step to 
the gallery. The next moment the panel closed under the 
pressure of his hands as noiselessly as it had parted. 

‘‘You little dunce he exclaimed, coming down again, 
“ that wall is not going to cave in so easily, but the shrunken 
wood is cracking; we must have it attended to.^^ 

Master Guy was a little skeptic; his keen intelligence and 
the listening and spying nature was not readily cheated by what 
his elders said; there was not much of the chUd^s faith in 
his cunning composition. He squinted doubtingly at the saint 
whose arm was restored in lingering benediction above the kneel- 
ing woman^s head; but he kept his thoughts about the matter 
to himself, and began to lament again when his father went to 
the table to prepare the medicine. 

“ Papa, Aunt Teresa nearly beat the life out of me.^^ 

The man wheeled about, as if he could not have heard 
©right. 

“ She beat and pushed me awfully — as if it was my fault be- 
cause that little fool followed me like a dog.^^ 

‘‘ Who? Of whom are you speaking, my son?^^ the fright 
©ued eenator thinking hi? boy hSl begome delmotis. 


m TilE SCHTLLIKGSCOtRT. 121 

** I mean that strange boy from Scbillingscourt — the booby 
in blue. He ran after me clear into our store-room, Guy re- 
plied, tossing himself about impetuously. 

“ He is in this house — upstairs — with your Aunt Teresa?’^ 

Guy nodded, and spilled most of the medicine in the spoon, 
held to his lips just then. 


CHAPTEE XVL 

Befoee the screams of her hopeful nephew had ceased to 
echo around her, the indignant blood had receded from Mrs. 
Lucianos face, leaving it cold and stoney as usual. She wiped 
the dust and tears from Josefs face with a corner of her blue 
linen apron, but never looked into the swollen eyes, nor spoke 
a kindly word to the child, and when his soft little hand crept 
into her labor-hardened one in leaving the dark place she 
shuddered as if a snake had curled there. 

It was just about this hour of the afternoon when the officer’s 
wife arrived secretly at the Cloister House from her deserted 
Berlin home. 

A little blonde-haired boy had clung just like this one to her 
hand, and two such little hesitating feet kept time with the 
resolute step, when she exchanged a brilliant life for this her- 
mitage, simply to punish and disgrace her husband. At that 
time she fancied she could lead the boy away from a frivolous 
life for all time, and keep him at her side forever. Shocking- 
experience had taught her different. Did she think of this 
now, or what were the thoughts that flitted through the brain 
under the silvery diadem of hair, worn still as the once beauti- 
ful brown braid had been when it was so much admired? 

She led the child into the gable-room, with stained closet- 
doors and old-fashioned furniture, just as she had led her own 
boy upon that evening to wash the dust from his travel-stained 
face, and exchange the blue jacket so despised by her brother 
for a plain blouse. The great dark eyes were veiled by the 
long lashes as she wet the towel to wipe the tearful face care- 
fully, as if she would guard her fingers from touching his little 
cheeks. 

‘‘ Hush!” said she, shortly, when he began to speak of Aunt 
Mercedes. He looked longingly at the water-flask; his throat 
was parched from crying and inhaling the hot, dusty air of the 
store-room, but he did not venture to speak again. Gentle 
and obedient, just like the boy who plaj^ed over in that corner 
five-and-twenty years ago, and whose little bed stood behind 
that coarse curtain in the other room. 


In the schilling Scourt. 


12 ^ 

She prepared a driuk of some berry syrup;, wine and watei*. 
and held it to the cliild’s lips without looking at him. Thii 
refreshing drink was sometimes given to faint and weary trav- 
elers who paused at the Cloister House. Why not also to this 
strange child, who had been so illy used by the son of the host? 
He was almost perished — for he grasped the glass eagerly and 
drank the contents to the very last drop. Then he lifted his 
little arm to oft'er a grateful embrace, as he was in the habit 
of thanking those who were kind to him ; but the woman may 
not have noticed the action. She set the tumbler on the table, 
and took a brush hanging near, and removed the 2 )articles of 
straw and dust from the blue cashmere suit, and once more 
passed the wet towel over the flushed little face. But the 
beautiful gold-gleaming curls that clung sweat-moist to the 
forehead were not touched. None had ever witnessed a quiv- 
ering of the nerves in this woman; but she had misdirected the 
water in pouring it into the glass for the child, and now the 
brush fell from her hands twice. Then she pushed the little 
fellow toward the door with impatient haste. 

Heavy footsteps were mounting the stairs, and a closely 
cropped gray he^ became visible. 

“ The deuce exclaimed its owner. “ I see you have com- 
pany.’" 

The senator must have been unaccustomed to running up- 
stairs; he seemed very much out of breath, but when he 
reached the full light of the hallway at the head of the steps, 
lie was the same picture of robust health as of old, with an 
added restlessness to his energetic manners. But his eyes ap- 
peared sunken under their gray, overhanging brows, where 
they seemed to glow in their sockets with an unnatural fire, 
unlike the old, calm, world-challenging glance. These burn- 
ing eyes flashed upon Jose, who retreated a step nearer to the 
woman, and laid close hold upon the hand that she had hidden 
in the folds of her dress, when this little one was extended on 
leaving the room, with a mute appeal to be led through the 
strange hall. 

“ Whose boy is that?” was the senator’s curt question. 

‘‘ How should 1 know?” was the short answer. “ I heard 
a child ’s cry from my room, and went over to see the cause. 
I found that your Guy had been amusing himself by locking 
a strange child into our lumber-room.” 

“And for this you ventured to abuse him!” the senator 
cried furiously. 

“Abuse him? I simply gave him a few well-deserved 
jnarks.” Her reply was coldly unmoved, and brought the en- 


m THE SCHILLllsGSCOUET. 12S 

raged man to Ms senses. There was no headway to be made 
by blustering at this calmly dehberate woman. 

‘‘ I never punished him in such a brutal manner myself. 

Morels the pity — the boy will never be good for any- 
thing!^’ Such an uncomplimentary criticism had never 
escaped her lips before. She was certainly not herself. 

“Ah! you really think not, Teresa?” The sun-browned 
face grew a shade more red, and a sardonic smile hovered about 
his mouth. “ What a calamity it would be if my son should 
also take a notion to run away with a dancing jade some night. ” 

His sister snatched her hand out of the little clinging fingers 
with one wrench; her lips became compressed like iron. 

The senator watched her closely and smiled ironically while 
twisting at his beard. 

“ Oh, yes — I am well aware that my son is not to your taste. 
He is far too intelligent for his age, and knows how to assert 
Mmself like a true Wolfram, who never stoops to fawn and 
flatter. A jackanapes like that ” — he pointed to Jose — “ would 
suit you better — the devil only knows what you imagine he 
may be — ” 

“ The child of strangers, nothing else.” 

“Of course the child of strangers, what else should he be — 
we have no relatives. I merely suggested, since my Guy does 
not suit you — that this tow-headed boy had perhaps put a 
crotchet of some kind into your head. How did he get into 
my house, if not through you? It is not to be supposed he 
was wafted in like a snowflake. ” 

“ Guy must have brought him in.” 

“ Guy — and always Guy — the poor fellow, is the criminal, and 
gets the beating; that youngster is the innocent lamb. How 
did you get here?” he snapped wrathily at the child, who 
started back in affright, unable to utter a word. “ Will you 
answer me?” he shouted, making a threatening motion toward 
him. 

The woman, with a glare like a tigress-mother at the attack- 
ing party, placed herself between the trembling boy and her 
brother, who involuntarily retreated before the look in her face. 
The next instant the face was icily calm, as she quietly re- 
marked: “ Would you add to the terror of this strange child, 
who has already been scared nearly to death by your tricky 
son?” 

8he bent over Jose to question him herself, but there seemed 
to come no language to her tongue in which she could address 
tMs child, who gazed up at her with his beautiful, appealing 


124 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


eyes, so she only compressed her lips more closely and turned 
away. 

But Jose replied of his own accord now, feeling himself pro- 
tected by the woman. 

“ I crept through the hedge with that big boy. He always 
creeps through there and throws stones at the ducks. He said 
he wanted to show me his lapins.^'’ 

“ Indeed/^ the senator remarked, strangely puzzled by his 
sister^s manner, ‘‘there is but one hedge between our place 
and Schillingscourt. A nice discovery! My son on Schilling’s 
property. I’ll have the place barricaded with impenetrable 
thorns. I recollect now of seeing this will-o’-the-wisp moving 
over there among the trees. He belongs to that American 
family. Von Yalmaseda, they call themselves. The husband 
is said to be a watering-place gambler, and leaves his family — 
to the scandal of decent people — without a cent of money, 
upon the charity of the Schillings.” The information came 
as glibly from his bearded lips as if he were a veritable gossip- 
monger. “ The Schillings were always spendthrifts. Advent- 
urers always found a welcome there. But the baroness won’t 
put up with it — she declined to mix with such doubtful guests, 
and cleared out.” 

Mrs. Lucian’s glance wandered from the wasp and a couple 
of blue-bottle flies that were beating against the closed windows 
of the large room before the door of which they stood, until 
her brother had ended, then she turned her eyes keenly upon 
him, and said: 

“ What is it our business? We are not in the habit of con- 
cerning ourselves about the Schillingscourt visitor.” 

“ There was a time when you did, Teresa — when the man 
in the royal regimentals was angling for the pretty, stupid. 
Wolfram goldflsh. But the grass has grown of that time, and 
I have lived down the disgrace; but I am once more concerned, 
since Guy has hunted up a companion who hails from Schillings- 
court. A nice association, truly! And you — can you forget 
that that house is the source of all you have had to endure? — 
that the Schillings are to blame for your totally wrecked life? 
I should think the very air from the place would offend you. 
For your sake alone have I taken pains that not so much even 
as the dust tracked by a foot from the hateful ground should 
be carried into my premises, and here you are taking this luck- 
less creature into your room to comfort and caress it.” 

“ Caress!” She laughed wildly, drawing the big blue apron 
through her hands as if to wipe out the very memory of the 
little fingers that had clung to them. “You ought to know 


IK THE SCHtLLIKaeCOtJRT. 


m 


that it was useless to remind me of the past. Have I for one 
moment of my life forgotten that I am a AVolfram, tell me? 
the daughter of my father and all the Wolframs before him? 
They may also have made mistakes, but when they had recog- 
nized their error, did they ever fail to follow the road they con- 
sidered proper, though it led them through the torments of 
hell?^^ 

She pressed her large white hand to her breast and passed on 
to the stairs, where she remained standing again, and saidr, 
“ DonT trouble yourself about me — I shall go on to the end 
with the task before me. But, be on your guard; you are but 
the shadow of yourself! No one longed more than I for an 
heir to our ancient and reputable race^ — but I did not dream 
that nature could change, or deem it possible blood could so 
alter. But this I do know: among all the sons that have been 
born on the Cloister estate, there have been none so malig- 
nantly cruel or maliciously destructive as your Guy. Had 
there been we should not be where we are to- day — our prop- 
erty would have been scattered to the four winds. And thus 
is he permitted to grow up untrained — you let him do with you 
as he pleases — you tremble at every pretended spasm he de- 
lights to torment you with. All, everything, is to fall into his 
hands — I believe you would sell your soul to the evil one for 
this boy^s sake.^^ She paused as if frightened at her own agi- 
tation and the words that made her brother gasp with rage. 
But she retracted nothing, and added, with increased severity: 
“ If you expect to see the Wolframs prosper in honor in the 
future, as in the past, then do your duty as a father — apply 
the rod!"^ 

She motioned for Jose to follow her, and passed down the 
stairs. 

It was just six o^clock. The foaming milk-buckets stood on 
the table — the people were pressing around it to be waited on. 

“ This child belongs to Schillingscourt,^^ said she to one of 
the maids. ‘ ‘ Take him over and open the gate for him. You 
are not to go in. 

She walked to the table without a glance at the astounded 
people who were staring at the pretty little fellow, who turned 
his flushed face once more toward her as he was going away, 
and called out: 

“ Good-night, kind woman 

If she heard she made no sign; but for once in the history 
of the dairy business on that Cloister House table, the precious 
milk overflowed the jug of a customer, and ran streaming in 
a little white river on the floor. 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


CHAPTER XVIL 

The girl opened tlie garden gate to the aristocratic iiOuse, 
and hurried hack again according to orders; and Jose ran along 
the walk to the Column House. Everything was hushed about 
the garden, and the crunching of the gravel under the little 
fellow'^s feet could be plainly heard, aad attracted the attention 
of Deborah, who came rushing toward him as fast as she could 
move her corpulent body. 

“ Oh, Lord! oh, Lord! Praise God, is that you, honey?” 
she said, with tears streaming over her black cheeks. “ Oh, 
darling, where have you been? My sweet honey-boy has been 
out in the strange streets — my bad, naughty boy. Praise God! 
you are here again, and didnT get run over and lost; and De- 
borah, your poor Deborah, and Jack, would be to blame for 
not taking better care of their sweet, pet boy; and they are 
dragging the lake for our darling, among the fishes, and poor 
dear auntie is dying with grief!” 

During these chidings and caressings she had gathered him 
up in her arms and ran toward the lake. There the master 
and the people of the house were collected, dragging the pond. 
The handsome Spanish lady ” stood by, leaning like a white 
statue against a linden-tree, holding in her hand Jos6^s hat, 
that had been found there. This woman, who had worn a saber 
and carried a revolver while guarding a wounded brother 
through a desolated country, and ‘‘ directed the transportation 
like a man,” was not one to give her anguish voice in lamenta- 
tions. 

‘‘ Here he is!^^ Deborah cried. 

The words fell with the force of a bombshell among the lit- 
tle crowd. Every face lighted up with joy at sight of the child, 
and they looked at each other with the relief that would have 
said: Why, how could we for one moment imagine he was 

drowned?” 

The sudden transition from deepest grief to boundless Joy 
found no expression on Mercedes’s lips. The stony stare that 
had watched tlie waters beneath which the precious one might 
be, had not yet vanished from her face when she turned to 
meet the child. Her dress was draggled and dusty from the 
search, the net holding that thick “ gypsy hair ” was torn 
from the bushes where the anxious one had sought the lost 
boy. With tottering steps she moved toward the little fellow. 


136 


m THE SCHILLTNGSCOURT. 


127 


as still flushed and swollen-eyed he crept into her embrace. 
Her voice was severely reproving, but trembled as she said: 
‘‘ Jose, Jose, you have been naughty to run away.^^ 

Jose Avept and sobbed bitterly, saying, “ never, never would 
he do so again, and told in broken accents his adventure on 
the Cloister estate, while at a motion from the baron the 
people dispersed and went about their duties as before. Jose 
began to tell about the “ bad man who wanted to strike him,'’^ 
and the woman who had told him so sternly to hush."’^ 

The effect upon Mercedes, when she heard this, was intensely 
exciting. Her southern temperament, curbed generally by 
her superior sense, now rose in rebellion; she shook off impa- 
tiently Deborah’s hand that attempted to restore the hair, 
falling in a great blue-black wave over her mistress’s shoulder, 
to its net. What cared she for outward appearance at this 
moment! 

“ What now?” she sharply asked Baron Schilling, who 
walked beside her and gently placed his hand over Josh’s 
mouth, who was dwelling feverishly upon the “ frightful great 
mouse ” that came out of a corner after the big boy had locked 
him into that awful room. 

Her eyes were lifted angrily, but through a misty veil, to 
the gentleman, who replied, quietly: 

“Be firm.” 

“ I can not and will not!” she exclaimed, pressing the boy 
to her breast passionately. “ The sacrifice is too great. I can 
not battle with such coarse natures for that which Felix cer- 
tainly overestimated. The task is more than I can bear. ” 

“ Do we not bear it together? Am I not here?” he asked, 
reproachfully. 

The kindliness contained in the words affected Mercedes, 
but her pride conquered the emotion. “Do we not bear it 
together?” he had said, and thereby implied an association 
between them that was distressing under the circumstances. 
This man had a wife, who deserted the house meanly for the 
very purpose of preventing a possible association, r^otwith- 
standing the woman’s title, she was but a girl, spirited, fear- 
less, and energetic as a man, but the modesty of true woman- 
hood made her sensitive as a Mimosa. A feeling of shame and 
repulsion overcame her; she made no answer, but flashed an 
expressive glance upon him from her great black eyes. 

“ I am not exactly the children’s legal guardian, but Felix’s 
request and my promise to him give me certain rights that I 
shall maintain to the uttermost. From this attitude I ques- 
tion whether my personal feelings are to be considered when 


128 


IK THE SCHIELIKGSCOUKTi 


coaise natures offend at tlie first contact, and wlietlier I hav^ 
the right to let my courage wane from individual reasons. 
Such feeling must be left out of the question. Felix died 
poor.^^ 

Mercedes started, as if this plain speech had wounded her 
to the soul — a deep crimson mantled her pale cheeks. 

“ True, he did not leave a dollar of ready money. The 
property my father left him lies all in weed-overgrown planta- 
tions in a devastated land. They are no longer valuable since 
the hands that worked them wear spurious rings upon the 
fingers. Felix became beggared like the whole financially 
ruined south. Bah! what is the use of talking about it? ; 
According to the German sense of justice, this is but the conse- 
quent expiation for the old wrongs.'’^ 

She turned away indignantly, and lifted her arms to arrange 
her hair tidily. In this position her beautiful figure was an 
exquisite sight for an artist. 

“You justify your line of conduct — I think — principally ■ 
upon the grounds of this poverty.'’^ 

“ Most assuredly — I consider it my duty to help these chil- 
dren to their rightful inheritance — at any sacrifice.'"’ 

“ Oh, this miserable money The expression was accom- 
panied with the same contemptuous shrug that she used in the 
studio when she said: “ With his wife^^s money. 

The baron did not stand before her now like a dreamy artist, 
but like one of those sohd, strong-souled men up in the pict- , 
ure-gallery, that represented characters not readily turned from 
a purpose once undertaken. 

“ Yes, this miserable money!'^ he repeated; “but I do not 
deny its power any more than Felix did when he so fervently 
hoped his children might some time obtain his inheritance — 
and he was right, they will need it. I am aware that I shall be 
misjudged for this expression; but I can stand it. 

Her lip curled, and ignoring the last remark, she asked: 

“ Do you then think the children will starve without this 
old woman^s money ?^^ 

Baron Schilling smiled. “ They have a very energetic 
auntie, who would, in case of necessity, do menial work rather 
than have her darlings suffer. More than this, I do not know; 
nor do I care to pry into the circumstances, because they would 
not alter my views. I calculate upon the power of endurance 
required to brave the forces that will cross our undertaking ** 

— he hesitated, and his eyes sought the ground — ‘‘ you are so : 
young. . 

“ But resolute enough to hold faith with the dead,^^ she j 


IN’ THE SCHILLIHGSCOUET. 129 

^ded quickly and comprehensively, as her face grew painfully 

ensu^. Jos6 was sitting on a garden-bench, at a 
little distance, telling Deborah of his adventures on the Clois- 
ter estate. 

The baron changed the subject by asking a question that 
puzzled him considerably. 

Why do you indulge the little woman in her fancy that she 
IS rich-very rich? The truth will have to be told her some 
time. ^ 

Not necessarily; as long as she does not separate her fort- 
unes from mine. Lucille would die if she thought she was 
no longer the mistress of unbounded wealth. Felix loved her 
unto death. He was more troubled for the future welfare of 
this pleasure-loving being than for his little children. I gave 
nim ray sacred promise that I would watch over her, and thus 
I look upon her rather as an elder sister to the little ones, a 
character she decidedly prefers, to that of being a mother. 
She is very delicate — in fact, physicians declare she is in the 
first stages of consumption. I consider it my duty to ward 
off, wherever I can, any unpleasantly agitating emotion. For 
that reason I gave strict orders that she should not be informed 
of Josefs disappearance until we were certain of his fate.'^ 

She called the little fellow to her, and, taking him by the 
hand, turned once more to the baron, saying: 

‘‘Will you accompany me to Lucille? She may have 
heard a distressing rumor by this time, and is liable to excite 
herself needlessly — ^your presence will prevent it."^ 


CHAPTEE XVIII. 

Dokha Mercedes was not in the habit of visiting Lucille^s 
apartments. There was no occasion. The meals were served 
in the general dining-room, notwithstanding Lucille^s objec- 
tions to this arrangement. The setting sun bathed the scene 
in a glow of golden splendor; but in Lucille's rooms the cur- 
tains were closely drawn to shut out this glare, and the softer 
light of night, substituted bvthe brilliance of innumerable jets, 
issuing from the bronze wall-brackets and chandelier depend- 
ing from the ceiling, and on each side of the full length mirror 
between the windows. The scene was suggestive of the pres- 
ence of a catafalque; but was something very different — ^it 
lighted up a stage scene. 

Before the mirror hovered a little human butterfly. Over 
the flesh-colored silk hose she wore a short skirt of yellow 


130 


lie THE SOHILLINGSCOUriT. 


satin; a lavender velvet bodice^ embroidered with silver, in' 
closed the tapering waist; the powdered arms, that waved 
with every motion of her body, were covered with bracelets, 
and ribbons fluttered from the white shoulders like wings. It 
was a dance — it was rather a floating, fairy-like motion, as if 
the air were bearing the slender figure. Truly, Lucille was 
an artist of the first rank. Her musical accompaniment was 
peculiar; and Minna, the maid, stood wdth her back toward 
the door in the middle of the room, humming an air, so dis- 
tinctly accented that it left no doubt of the fact that she was 
the well practiced orchestra of such rehearsals, and perfectly 
familiar with the business. She clapped the time with her 
hands, and moved head and body involuntarily with every mo- 
tion of the dancer. Both seemed oblivious of little Pauly, who 
was sitting upon the floor amusing herself with the artificial 
flowers that had been cast aside when her mamma’s flowing 
locks had been entwined with all they could gracefully hold. 
The little one was partly undressed, and had twisted a silken 
scarf about her bare neck after dressing her baby head with a 
wreath put on sideways. 

Lucille!” exclaimed Mercedes, who had entered with Jose 
and the baron. 

The little creature turned, affrighted. 

Oh, mamma, you stupid, you forgot to lock the door!’^ 
The momentary confusion passed with the reproof. Then she 
began to laugh merrily. 

The baron stroked his beard, greatly amused. This sylph 
didn’t look as if she would swoon from the effects of her son’s 
adventure. He remained with Jose near the door, but Mer- 
cedes hastened to remove the wreath from baby Pauly’s head 
and draw the clothes up over her shoulders, and endeavored 
to quiet the protesting child while replacing the little shoes 
and stockings that had been kicked off. 

“ Lucille, you ought not to let this little one witness such 
amusements,” said she. 

Pshaw! why not? If you imagine I shall consent to hav- 
ing her brought up as stupidly severe as you are training Jose, 
vou are much mistaken! The poor thing has a miserable 
babyhood any way, compared to mine. Gracious! What a 
happy, happy childhood that was! Petted, admired, fairly 
rolling in elegance, every wish gratified— that is the way I 
was brought up! Oh, my beautiful, lost paradise!” She 
lifted her arms toward heaven— those arms had grown so thin 
—surely the doctors had spoken truly. Lucille was hectio 
with excitement and her bosom rose and fell tumultuously. 


m THE SCHILLINGSCOUET. 13i 

She tore the flowers from her hair and flung them on the 
floor. 

“ You call it ^ amusements/ she continued, vehemently. 
“ God knows, it^s poor enough amusement — but what is a 
body to do? Every one to their taste, Donna Me> cedes! 
You drum Bach on your piano, and go into ecstasy C7er the 
old noodle. I dance and sometimes enjoy the melancholy de- 
light of reviving the old theater days.^'’ 

“ Your costume is new — ^perfectly new?^^ 

Lucille whirled upon her toes, and gave a little confused 
chuckle. The maid stooped to pick up the scattered flowers. 

“ And what if it is?^'’ The little woman halted in her 
dance and approached Mercedes. ‘‘ And what if it is? Does 
it concern you if I purchase a few yards of satin and velvet? 
Does it come out of your purse? Oh, Baron Schilling! be- 
hold my serenely severe sister-in-law! The lace she is drag- 
ging like rags over the floor is more expensive than a queen 
is in the habit of wearing on her state trains. The extrava- 
gance of these cotton queens is fabulous, I tell you! But a 
poor little object like myself may not even indulge in a new 
costume for my ‘ amusement V It is scandalous to think that 
my pin-money has been tied up in the guardianship of this 
Mercedes — and dunce that I am to submit! How do I know 
by what authority — if authority she has at all — she questions 
the disposition of my money? I must account for every spool 
of silk — every pin — 

‘‘ You know that I never ask an account of you,, Lucille. 

Mercedes spoke quietly. There was an expression of pure 
nobility on her face, unmingled with resentment. “I think 
you do wrong, however, to overheat yourself in this manner,, 
contrary to the physician^s orders. Felix would not permit it. 

“ Because he was jealous. He could not endure the idea of 
having others see and enjoy my talents, and certain other per- 
sons were just like him. Those doctor wiseheads saw that 
plainly, and at once sided with the ‘ powers ^ of the establish- 
ment-— certainly! and really believed I could be scared, when 
they stared at me solemnly and said: ‘Your health is endan- 
gered.^ The smart Aleck !^’ 

Like a naughty, exquisitely graceful child, she mocked the 
doctors, and finished by a lightning pirouette, and a whirl of 
gold-colored satin and sheeny gauze. 

Mercedeses face was very red when she quietly took Pauiy 
by the hand to leave the room. 

But Lucille anticipated the movemetit. 

“ Oh, no! Pauly remains with her mamma/^ said she^ 


132 


m THE SCHILLINGSOOURT. 


cidedly. You may usurp my place with Jos6. I love him? 
to be sure, but iCseems I have no power to control him. Fate 
acts blindly in some of her arrangements. To think of a 
young inexperienced thing like myself being the mother of a 
great boy. hTon sense! But my pet, my sweet Pauly and I — 
we belong to each other — as mamma and I did once — so donT 
try to — 

Felix gave Madame Valmaseda the legal right to contx’ol 
both children/’ the baron interrupted, impressively. 

Lucille turned upon him with a scornful laugh. “ You, too, 
Brutus!’’ she exclaimed pathetically. “ Well, I might have 
known it — on the other side all were likewise subservient to 
this oracle — her father — ^Felix — and poor Valmaseda. These 
dark women with their somber airs are sovereign in ruling, 
cautiously reserved in granting favors — that is the secret of 
their power. What a cold bride she was!” 

‘‘ Silence!’’ said Mercedes with flashing eyes, to the treach- 
erous gossip. 

“ Good heavens! I’m still, aren’t I?” she cried, with a droll 
semblance of fear. ‘‘ But Baron Schilling is my friend — a 
friend of the glorious old times in Berlin — I won’t have him 
drawn into your net — I won’t, I say! His life is none too 
happy, the poor, unfortunate fellow.” 

‘^Unfortunate?” the baron queried — ‘‘who told you I was 
unhappy and — ” 

“Good Lord! I should think you would be, with such a 
wife. Or has she, perhaps, improved in appearance?” Lu- 
cille opened her eyes, seriously interested, but the pale, indig- 
nant face that just then swept a lightning glance over the 
woman who had said “ the man sold himself,” was starthng 
to the garrulous little lady. Mercedes’s countenance was once 
more expressive of contempt. 

“ Really, Mrs. Lucian, 1 am grateful for your tender regard 
■ — ^you are consideration itself — but rest easy on my account; 
I am perfectly contented with my lot in life.” 

He placed his hand on the door-knob; Jose standing ready 
to escape the moment the door should open, as if the air of 
the room distressed him. 

“We came to tell you that our little runaway had returned 
safely.” 

“I see. I suppose he could not be found for a moment, 
and then there was a great hue and cry. Some one—wasn’t 
it, Robert, Minna? — came to the door to ask if he was here. 
I didn’t think anything more about it. A big boy like him 
can’t get lost as if he were a pin.” She approached him with 


IN THE SOHILLINGSCOUET. 138 

fairy-like skips, and laid her hand on his head. Where on 
earth had you disappeared to, Jose.^'^ she asked. 

The little fellow pressed his face to the door, shook off her 
hand, and began to cry. 

‘‘ No, mamma, no! I can^t look at you. Put on a long 
dress; you are not my mamma now — no!^^ 

‘‘You absurd boy!^^ His mother tried to turn him by 
force, but the child^s nerves seemed to quiver still with the ex- 
citement of his adventure; for, unlike his usual gentle com- 
pliance, he struggled to escape, crying convulsively meanwhile^ 
his little sister joining in at the top of her voice. 

“Great fathers, what a babel the mother exclaimed, 
rushing into the adjoining room with her hands pressed upon 
her ears, and banging the door shut; while the baron left 
with Jose, and Mercedes assisted Minna in quieting Pauly. 

“ Well, IVe got enough of this,^^ Eobert said to one of the 
other servants when the baron had passed with Jose, and 
Mamselle Birkner had just returned from handing Deborah 
cake for the supper-table. “ Here we were, all thanking God 
because the baroness had put that beast Minka out to board, 
and now I^d give a ten-dollar bill if she was back again, and 
things were as they used to be. A private kick, or a trifling 
knock over the beast^s head settled her for awhile, at least, 
and a body got some rest. But now? Why, it^s enough to 
set one crazy. You canT step for the playthings and stuff 
scattered round, and a body^s back is bent double picking up 
after the trash — and that infernal dog keeps one dodging all 
the time. I know what I^d like to feed him in his ‘ big dish 
of meat ^ — and those spoiled brats keep the house everlastingly 
alarmed. First, it is run with poles to fish the boy out of the 
lake, when he ainT there at all; then it is jump and pick up 
the squalling girl, who has nothing else to do but fall on her 
nose; and just now they both howled until my hair rose on end 
—and no thanks from the high-nosed madame, who hasnT 
got money enough to pay for what she eats. It costs the 
master a fortune to keep them, and he pretends he never was 
BO happy in his life as he is now! Oh, if his wife would only 
drop in on him! She despises children. I never saw her pass 
one without looking as if she wanted to step on it.^^ 

“ That's because the Lord never sent her any," Mamselle 
Birkner apologized. 

“ Well, may be she has gone to Eome to pray for one,^^ 
Eobert giggled, wittily. 

“ She is not in Eome any more," the gardener whispered; 
“ she is visiting at the convent — " 


134 


IK THE SCniLLIKGSCOURT. 


The man paused as if the information had escaped him un- 
awares, and when pressed by his curious companions as to 
where he got his news, he said a bird had told him/'’ That 
he spied into an open letter, while attending to the flowers in 
the baron’s studio, he failed to relate; but he winked know- 
ingly when he added: I think she is coming home soon — 
then look out! That American family will be sent a-kiting; 
mind what I tell you!” 

‘‘ The master -will not permit it.” 

“ And, if you please, Mamselle Birkner, to whom does 
Schillingscourt belong?” the man asked, spitefully. 

‘‘ To us!” she replied, exasperated. “ To us, and not to 
the Steinbrucks. When we were all together yet — the old 
baron and Arnold — I should say the young baron — and I — 
there was no gracious mistress then — and we w^ere as happy as 
the day was long, and the good old master owned the house. 
Here he was born, and here he died. We were all faithful and 
honest. The keys to the cellars were never carried away, as 
if the house was full of rascals — ” she stopped suddenly and 
stepped respectfully aside as Donna Mercedes passed with lit- 
tle rauly. 

“ Beggar princess!” muttered Robert; for the lady moved 
by with downcast eyes, as if this gossiping humanity were so 
many statues. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

Lucille locked herseK into her room like a pouting child, 
and would not come to supper. Minna had carried her a 
waiter laden with refreshments, and was obliged to stay and 
keep her mistress company; thus she was not aware that the 
family physician had been called in late in the evening by 
Baron Schilling to prescribe for Jose, whose feverishly excited 
condition increased as the night advanced. 

Donna Mercedes had his little bed removed from the nursery 
into her own room, so that she could watch over him herself, 
and he fell into quiet slumber, after the doctor’s potion had 
been given, until midnight, when he started up with terror to 
find himself in a strange room and Aunt Mercedes lying on a 
bed dressed, and a red light falling on everything in the 
apartment from the shaded lamp on the table. Every article 
assumed a terrifying shape to the little fellow, and his head 
sunk back on the pillow with a leaden weight, and the hot 
steam came from his burning little body when he moved the 
bed-clothes up over his face. Surely he heard that “ big 


' ' m THE SCHiLLTKGSCOtJRT. 135 

mouse from the Cloister House lumber-room; he rose up 
in his bed again and looked toward the door, and there he saw 
a foot; it seemed to be walking on tiptoe; he looked to see to 
whom this foot belonged that came out of the corner of the 
window, and he saw a tall figure with a shadowy face, with the 
hair growing into the brow; it was closely cropped, bristling 
hair, and the eyes glowed fiercely under the bushy brows; 
quickly he covered his head with the bed-clothes again; he dared 
not cry aloud, for fear the man^s big hand would fall upon 
him, but he moaned in the agony of his terror, and Mercedes 
sprung up and went to his bed. She drew down the clothes, 
and was frightened at the spasmodic, burning little hands that 
clutched her <5wn. 

“ Don^t let the big -man come, auntie — ring — have Jack 
bring Pirate he moaned. 

“You are dreaming, dear, said she, in quivering tones. 
The fever-heat streamed from his body like a flame, but he 
dashed her hands away and screamed: “ Jack! Pirate!'^ 

Mercedes rang the bell. The two colored people came 
rushing into the room, and soon the master of the house came 
also, and stood anxiously waiting for the ominously thoughtful 
physician to speak, and again and again the little fellow 
shrieked for help to drive the mouse, away, not to let the 
dreadful man strike him. Then began a long, sad siege. 
Death stood lingering at the bedside, threatening the last of 
the race of Lucian. ^ Sometimes he seemed to have stretched 
his arms over the ^Idly beating heart. Then the shadows 
lay upon the beautiful curly head until the features of the 
Childs’s face were scarcely to be recognized as those of bright 
little Jose’s. The physicians brought all their skill to bear 
upon the case, and with singular unity tried to save their pa- 
tient solely for the young lady with the dark, southern face 
and tearless, agonized eyes, who listened to their directions 
with closely compressed lips; who never murmured, and 
usually declined food and drink, and sat night and day beside 
the sick-bed. 

The little mamma, however, who often stood at the foot of 
the couch with swollen eyelids, and whispered and gesticulated 
constantly, was a perfect nuisance to the doctors. She burst 
into loud motherly lamentation, but with the egotism of a 
selfish nature. She did not want to suffer this uncertainty. 
She wanted them to give her comforting words, and when the 
patient’s condition would not admit of it. She declared they 
had no consideration for her, and threw herself upon the sick 
child with heart-rending reproaches for those who had brought 


136 IN THE SCHILLINGSCOIJRT. 

her boy to Germany, to this haunted Schillingscourt, to be 
murdered so cruelly. 

Truly, Mercedes’s cup of bitterness was overflowing. The 
mother had to be cared for like a child — a thankless task that 
she had to bear almost unassisted. Deborah, with her excessive 
grief for Jos6, was of little use. The poor colored nurse 
suffered doubly. The servants of the house declared the child 
must die, because Adam had appeared to him. A perfect 
panic of fright existed among them since the httle fellow had 
given that awful shriek, on the night he was taken sick, and 
aroused the whole house with his cries to have that ‘‘ dreadful 
man ” driven away. Of course, that was Adam’s ghost! and 
they were afraid to go near the room with the carved walls 
after nightfall, no matter how brilliantly the corridors were 
lighted. Deborah had her apron over her face, for fear she 
would see that “ dreadful man ” who was coming to take away 
her darling. The silence of the house and surroundings was 
guarded by the master himself. The bells were muffled and 
the street bedded with straw, to drown the rumbling of pass- 
ing vehicles. The fountains were stilled, and Pirate’s noise 
hushed day and night. During these sorrowful days the atelier 
stood utterly deserted. The master had remained in the house 
since the first night when he entered with the doctor. Some- 
times he remained in the sick-room only for an hour or two at 
a time, for he felt that the mute anxiety of the sleepless nurse 
could not endure surveillance; but gradually his stay beside the 
sick-bed was prolonged, and met with no protest, for Mer- 
cedes’s strength was giving way, and she realized that she 
could find no more reliable support than this man, who 
watched his favorite with such loving solicitude. She no 
longer met him with a frown, nor started up from her kneel- 
ing position at the bedside when she heard his step. She 
was resigned in the face of the calamity that seemed to hang 
over her exausted energies, and her proud heart submitted to 
the inevitable. 

She exchanged very few words, and yet each gained some- 
thing like a juster estimate of the other’s character. He had 
a sphinx nature to study, indeed, that frequently escaped his 
comprehension by turning upon liim some new and puzzling 
feature. 

What singular sensations permeated him at times, when his 
eyes were lifted from the si^-bed and fell upon the fairy-like 
surroundings that gleamed in their color radiance as if a 
magic shower had scattered its treasures about the beautiful 
woman, who had brought^ll this brightness from her southern 


m THE SCHILLINGKCOUKT. 


home, to make at least one of the rooms of the Gei^u., 
habitable for the luxuriantly indulged nature. From the 
coverlet that draped her couch, to the smallest drinking cu 
that glowed with fiery-eyed ruby settings, all was indicativi 
of the sybarite splendor of the planter's daughter’s home over 
the sea. 

She was born in such a luxuriantly refined atmosphere; but 
she had turned from the ease of her remotely situated and war- 
protected estate, and cast herself into the stormy struggle. 
Her pampered senses did not shrink from the thunder of bat- 
tle; her tender feet braved the wilderness of danger, and the 
white hand clutched bravely the protecting weapon, when the 
downy, silken couch was exchanged for the hard earth and the 
soldier’s blanket in the cause of those she loved. 

With what fanatical vehemence she had sneered in reference 
to the negroes the query ‘‘ human beings!” — and yet she 
would permit no hand but her own to smooth the pillow nor 
hand the cooling drink to the black Deborah. ‘‘ My good, 
faithful servant,” who had grieved herself sick with the loving 
anxiety during her pet’s illness, and fretted like a child in tak- 
ing the prescribed medicine until the patient, soothing voice of 
her mistress coaxed her to submission. 

She exhibited a detestation of everything German, but the , 
music-rack held Bach, Beethoven, and Schubert. The writing- 
desk gave evidence that she used her pen in the German 
language also. 

Around and above this desk Donna Mercedes had described 
a picture of her American home. There himg the oil painting 
of her proud Spanish mother, in the Undine-like beauty that 
distinguished her daughter. The dark, waving “ gypsy hair ” 
was twined with pearls, and the magnificent form draped in 
queenly velvet, caught here and there with clustering precious 
stones. Truly, this second wife of Major Lucian was the high- 
est type of haughtiness. The almost wrecked-in-happines« 
handsome man had certainly made a conquest here. His own 
and Felix’s picture was there also, and a number of water- 
color paintings, and sketches of Lucian’s possessions before 
the war. On the desk stood a beautiful bracket frame, con- 
taining a photograph of a young man, with a handsome, but 
rather insignificant face. 

“ That is poor Valmaseda,” Lucille had said, in her flippant 
way. “He was so handsome; bi^L the wisest thing he could 
have done was to die. To tell you candidly, he was not over- 
clevex Mercedes was engaged to him at fifteen; at that time 
they suited each other, but she became awfully intellectual 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 

ad the poor fellow could never have kept up with hei 
aS, and then there would have been a sad time for him. 

^cldly^ an enemy^s ball sent him to heaven in his lover’s illu- 

3n; Mercedes was at his side and caught him in her arms, 
and they say his last words were: ‘ This is a heavenly death.’ ” 

At this desk the medical consultation was held, hut Mer- 
cedes eventually remained at the bedside, and the baron trans- 
mitted the doctor’s hopes, fears, and directions to her. This 
sensation of weakness was new to her, and for the first time in 
her life she experienced the need of support, and the mocking, 
contemptuous expression vanished from her face, as day after 
day the noble, unselfish German shared her vigils, and inspired 
her with courage with his honestly sympathetic eyes. She be- 
came restless when he was absent, and her heart beat jo 3 dully 
at his approach. She no longer thought of the praying woman 
in Eome, who despised the unknown guests, and insulted them 
by locking up all the rooms but the ones with the ghost- 
haunted . reputation that her own bigoted superstitions had 
given them. 

There was something unpleasant about these apartments. 
The windows reached the floor of the veranda, with balusters 
so low that any one could step over them, and, according to 
the doctor’s orders, the windows were left wide open. 

Donna Mercedes was sitting behind the lace curtains of the 
bed, watching her charge. 

There was darkness without, but a shadow fell athwart the 
flags that was not made by the columns of the house. The 
silence was intense, nor denoted the footfall of human ap- 
proach; and still the watcher saw a white, stony, female face 
bend over the baluster, and, with darkly glowing eyes, stare at 
the pillow of the sick child as if they would absorb the between- 
life-and-death hovering little soul. At the startled rising of 
the watcher, that countenance vanished as if it had been wiped 
out of the darkness. 

Donna was not very familiar with the servants of the house, 
but she knew this white, anguished face belonged to none of 
them or she surely would have observed it before. But she 
spoke of it to no one — she rarely spoke during this sad time. 

At last the severest night of all came; each coming, heavily 
drawn breath of the little sufferer dragged as if it would be the 
last and the heart be stilled forever. Then the morning 
dawned, and gave back to existence a human soul — little Jose 
was saved! 

The joy was unbounded. The two colored people acted like 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOUEI. 

mad, and Lucille’s delight was as extravagant as ho. 
heen. 

Her toilet was carefully made again. Dressed in a light i 
with flowers in her long curls and upon her bosom, she cam 
dancing into the sick-room, to fall upon her boy’s bed, an. 
scatter over it the flowers she carried in her hands. But the 
physician peremptorily forbade it, and Lucille was wounded 
to the heart because they could not understand and appreciate 
her maternal rejoicing. She turned her hack upon them, 
poutingly. The danger was over. She might be her own 
naughty, naive self again now. 

Mercedes retained her composure during the day. Hone 
beheld the tears of unutterable relief and happiness she shed. 
But the night had come again; Baron Schilling had gone to his 
studio, and Deborah was attending the tea-table in Lucille’s 
room, where the little lady was taking supper with Pauly. 

It was nine o’clock. The sky was overcast with rain-clouds, 
and the lightning played among them in the distance. The 
•sick child slept the deep sleep of exhaustion. An angel of wax 
could not have lain among the pillows more unmoving. Mer- 
cedes knelt at the bedside with her hand on the now cool, 
moist little one of her precious Jos6. She was alone with him 
and might feast her eyes upon the little shadowy face. It 
would soon fill out again with fresh youthful vigor and beauty. 
She buried her face in the pillow beside it and burst into a ter- 
rible passion of long pent-up tears. 

The night wind swept over the rose-bushes in the garden, 
and carried their fragrance into the room as it gently lifted 
the curtains in passing through. Mercedes heard the light 
rustling of the silken material, but she fancied she heard the 
hem of a dress sweeping the flagstones of the columned hall — 
then a hand was laid upon the window-sill. 

Mercedes sprung to her feet. The white stony face of the 
woman was there again. A heavy braid of white hair lay like 
a diadem upon her head; a black shawl that had evidently been 
thrown over it had fallen over her shoulders, and the hands 
gripped wildly at the window for support. 

^ Dead!” she cried, her eyes flashing over the httle sleeper, 
with a harrowing, agonized moan. 

The speechless suffering displayed in that human face caused 
Mercedes to act with relieving haste. She motioned an em- 
phatic negative, and approached the window. She caught 
one more glance of those burning eyes, and the hand lifted in 
drawing the shawl over head and face. Then the figure vam 
ished in the darkness like a phantom. 


. IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 

^ determined to assure herself that she was not dream- 
itnd rushed into the adjoining room, where there was no 
and bent far out of the window for abetter view, but the 
darkness was impenetrable. Then she heard the clicking of an 
iron gate, and all was still as death. Suddenly a voice close to 
the window said: 

Now, I know for sure — ^it was a man.^’ 

“ You always know better than other people, was the pro- 
voked response. The voice was Robert’s, the waiter. ‘‘You 
had better say it was Adam’s and be done with it. I say it 
was a woman, and no mistake; I almost caught her the other 
night.” 

“ But what in the mischief does she want? that’s what I’d 
like to know! One thing is certain, she haunts the column 
hall, and peeps into the windows. Still, that is not so strange 
after all.” The man laughed contemptuously. “ We do the 
same thing; it’s as good as a theater in there. Regular black- 
amoors — in a room fit for the King of Morocco — a lot of fancy 
stuff and imitation precious stones — the ‘princess’ on her 
knees before the bed, and our master sitting by looking on as 
if he were studying the situation to put on canvas. It’s an 
outrage! He sticks in that room all the time, and that 
madame don’t seem to have a particle of decency left, to carry 
on so before us. It’s got to be the talk of the house. No 
doubt she would be only too glad if the baroness never came 
back; Schillingscourt is not a bad place to live in. But she’ll 
be mistaken there. My lady will drop down on them some of 
these pretty days; and, oh! the fun we shall see!” The man’s 
tones were suppressed, but every word, with its horrible im- 
port, struck upon Mercedes’s senses with terrific force. She 
returned to her room as Deborah entered, and the poor black 
woman trembled when she saw the face of her mistress. The 
eyes stocked in a face that looked as if there was not a drop of 
blood in her body. She wiped the lips in which the teeth had 
been hard set, and motioned for Deborah to seat herself at tht 
bedside, and went out into the air. There was suffocation in 
this house. 

She glided past the statue of Love; wantonness and roguish- 
ness smiled down upon her from the faces of Aphrodite and 
Eros, and the beautiful woman, with compressed lips and 
anger-inflated nostrils, would have made the trio perfect in the 
character of Hate. 

The gossipers still stood near the door as she passed out, and 
the creature who had just scandalized her so infamously bowed 
low to the stately white-robed “ princess.” 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUBT. 


141 

She was about to open the garden-gate leading on to the 
first terrace, when she perceived the baron^s form loom out of 
the darkness, as he came up the steps. His face was happily 
contented — he had been among his treasures again after so 
many anxious, absent days, and found among them new in- 
spiration and food for glorious thought. 

He held in bis hand a bunch of buds he had evidently Just 
gathered in the hot-house. With a pleased smile to find her 
out there, he extended the flower. 

Without lifting a hand to accept them, Mercedes shortly said: 

‘‘ Thank you. I do not like fiowers,^^ and stepped aside to 
let him pass. 

But at this moment she heard the doctor^s voice in the hall, 
who had come to make his customary evening visit to the pa- 
tient, and she was forced to return and remain in the sick- 
room with the two gentlemen. 

The baron placed the disdained flowers on a pedestal at the 
feet of an Ariadne, and conversed politely with the physician, 
while the latter examined the condition of the httle patient, 
and assured them that all the symptoms were progressing sat- 
isfactorily. 

‘‘ When do you think it will be safe to move him from this 
room?^^ Mercedes. asked. 

The doctor looked at her in surprise. He was not familiar 
with these brusque hard tones, and that impatient tremor from 
the mouth usually so silent and resigned. 

‘‘ Such a thing is not to be thought of at present, he re- 
plied. 

“ Not if I carry him out in my arms, carefully wrapped — 

‘‘Carry him out!^^ The man was literally amazed now. 
“ My dear lady, it will be soon enough to consider such a step 
two weeks hence. At present any change of room or nursing 
might occasion a relapse. 

He took his leave, and the baron, who accompanied him to 
the door, returned and walked rapidly to the writing-desk, 
where Mercedes was standing, with one white hand close to the 
photograph of the handsome man in the elegant oval bracket. 

“Jose is sleeping,^' said she, as if to arrest his approach. 
She did not deign to look at him in speaking, but continued to 
look at the framed face before her. She knew he was stand- 
ing with the full light of the globe lamp shining upon their 
faces, and that his eyes sought hers, as he asked: 

“ What is the matter?'"’ 

She confessed that the sudden change in her manner justified 
the question; but she was not in the habit of accounting for 


143 Ilf THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 

her actions — no one ventured to call them to account hereto 
fore. 

“ I do not understand you, sir!^^ she replied, contrasting th« 
feminine features of the photograph with the strong, stern face 
of the man who presumed to address her so authoritatively. 
She made a lovely picture of a Spanish girl,, with the lace 
thrown over the dark, abundant hair, and the iron visor would 
have suited well to that square forehead. “ I do not under- 
stand 3^011.^’ The evasive answer and comparing glance did 
not escape the comprehensive questioner, and the blood 
mounted to his face as he coldly queried : 

Am I to believe that you would be capable of endangering 
the life of the child we both idolize without a reason of more 
than ordinary weight? You would carry him out in your 
arms? Where would you take him?^^ 

What a rude questioner! No courteous diplomacy of get- 
ting at the subject. A regular unpolished German attack, 
leaving no loophole of escaping the direct question. But how 
could she acknowledge that she had listened, however uninten- 
tionally, to the gossiping tongues 6f his servants? To be sure 
she would have found it possible, while standing out there in 
the hall awhile ago, to say to him: ‘‘ I wish never to see you 
again. You are to blame for the slanders that have humbled 
me. You forced yourself into the sick-room, and thereby sub- 
jected me to low-bred suspicions. You prevented me from 
leaving the house its mistress had insultingly deserted. But 
now, with those clear, honest eyes upon her, she had not the 
courage to heap reproach and ingratitude upon the man who 
had so nobly, unselfishly proved her faithful friend during sick- 
ness and unutterable sorrow. 

‘‘ Why waste words about reasons that must necessarily give 
way to the doctor^s orders?’^ she replied, without looking at 
him. 

He smiled ironically. Yes, his orders are that no change 
must be made in the nursing or the rCom. 

I will speak to the doctor about that myself, she quickly 
interpolated. ‘‘ Or rather we, the nurses, must make some 
other arrangements. During those awful days of anxiety I 
was selfish enough to accept your watchful care. This must 
no longer be. You have sacrificed your time — 

Ah! It is caprice on your part, as I thought, was th« 
sudden interruption. 

She started. He had touched a tender spot in her heart, 
where regret was slumbering. Y^es, in the old, indolent days, 
when she was still rocked in the waves of girlish ease and 6un« 


m THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


143 


light, she had been a capricious, thoughtless being. They were 
all dead that gazed at her from those frames, and they may 
have suffered from the humors of the only daughter, that was 
so tenderly indulged in all her wayward moods. 

“ The danger is over,^^ he continued, in a subdued tone^ . 
“ and the evil spirits are asserting themselves again. You 
wish to wound me, and act as you may have been in the habit 
of doing with the poor creatures that may have come in con- 
tact with you; but you forget that you have here a practical 
German to deal with, who knows nothing about such airy 
things as ‘ caprice,^ and seeks for solid reasons, and thus once 
more I ask, why am I to be banished 

It was plain to be seen that he had not the remotest idea of 
the actual cause of her changed manner, and attributed it en- 
tirely to a whim. This pained her, but the pride that had 
hardened her so far would not permit a justification. The 
boundless haughtiness that characterized the picture of the lady 
in the velvet and the pearls, hanging over the desk, was re- 
flected from the face before him as she replied: 

‘‘ I have already said I can no longer permit you to sacri- 
fice your time — 

‘‘ And I might justly remind you that Josefs chai’ge is a 
mutual one. Felix placed him in my care as well as that of 
his sister, and where it is a matter of duty there can be no 
question of sacrifice. We are both simply fulfilling a prom- 
ise ” — he had retreated toward the sick-bed while speaking — • 
and, so far, I have considered the place here neutral ground, 
where there was but one thought — the welfare of the child — 
as, if I entertained the least fear that my absence would retard 
the speedy recovery of Jose, I should not move an inch at 
your bidding; but I leave him in good hands, and go.'’'^ 

You go in anger. The speaker was pale as marble, but 
her voice was emotionless, and she made no attempt to stay 
him. 

‘‘ Yes, I am vexed, but with myself, for blissful confidence 
that resulted in my present humiliation. I have heal’d you 
speak hardly of me, and you have ruthlessly judged me with- 
out a glance into the real circumstance. ” 

She turned away, and moved the articles on the desk in an 
objectless manner. 

Your annihilating observation about the negro race, some 
time ago, was most revolting to me, but I forgot it when I saw 
the self-sacrificing nobility with which you endured the injust- 
ice of Lucille immediately after, and the tenderness you ex- 
hibited for her children. You are ruled by two powers— » 


144 


m THE SCHILLINGSCOUET. 


God-given, grand woman^s soul, and the consequence of s 
prejudiced education. The latter, combined with a caprice ot 
the hour, makes me also a sufi'erer for the moment, but it cau 
not happen a second time. I am not given to slavish submis- 
sion. 

He bent over the sleeping hoy for a moment, and laid his 
slender hand upon his clinging curls; then he passed out of 
the room. 

Mercedes listened with bloodless face to his receding foot- 
steps, as if she would catch their faintest sound, for they would 
hear them in these rooms no more. The woman, accustomed 
to nothing but flattering phrases, had just been subjected to 
most unkind words; but was it not her own fault? Had she 
made an attempt to disguise her angry feelings? Had she ever 
considered it worth her while to act other than her absolute self 
for the sake of any gentleman? The proudest nabob in South 
Carolina, the handsome man looking at her from that oval 
face, had been nothing less than her submissive slave. 

\¥ith heaving bosom and burning heart, she knelt at Josh’s 
bedside and buried her face in the cool linen. 


CHAPTER XX. 

Josefs convalescence progressed very slowly. The little 
fellow was so fearfully reduced and weak that it was deemed 
necessary still to guard against startling noises, and the street 
W’as laid anew with straw, although some days had passed since 
he was pronounced out of danger. Mercedes and the baron 
had not met since their unpleasant parting, and Hanna had 
taken his place as nurse at the invalid’s couch without protest 
from Mercedes. The girl, with her serious face and quiet 
ways, made an excellent nurse; and her countenance lost its 
intense gloom as soon as she was permitted to cross the thresh- 
old of the big room,” to stay there night and day. Jos6 
became attached to her; and Donna Mercedes soon accustomed 
herself to this girl, who never spoke unless spoken to, and 
never stared at her as if she were an object of curiosity. En- 
tirely devoted to her duty, she seemed never to require rest, 
refreshment, or recreation; but appeared oversensitive to the 
least rustling or noise in the room. Sometimes she halted 
suddenly in crossing the floor, and, with distended eyes and 
listening attitude, concentrated every nerve upon the carved 
wall, where the sofa stood with its green silken cushion. 

Lucille, who caught her in this peculiarly alert position once, 
declared the girl was craay, and took pains to avoid hen In 


tlS THE SCHlLLIKGSCOtrRT, 


145 


f»ct, the little lady visited the haunted room very rarely 
now. It provoked her because there was such a fuss 
still made over the boy who had no longer a pain or ache. She 
detested this “ whispering and tiptoeing/^ and when she gave 
the ‘‘ poor starved child a few bonbons on the sly, they 
scolded her as if she had tried to poison him. 

She knew nothing of the little ^‘difference between Mer- 
cedes and their host, and considered it perfectly natural that 
he should confine himself to his studio, and “ make up for 
lost time.^^ 

“He stands before his easel as if he had grown there, and 
gives me anything but an inviting look if I happen to peep in 
upon him,^^ she grumbled. 

To all appearance the voluble little lady had found some- 
thing to “ amuse her in her own rooms, and probably con- 
tinued her “ stage practicing. Little Pauly said “ mamma 
had wings like the angels in the picture-books,^^ and “ didn^t 
have on any stockings, and wore dresses “ all gold and silver. 

About this time great trunks full of things were sent away 
— “ old-fashioned stuff that the Berlin dress-maker was going 
to remodel “ fit to wear.^^ 

Accompanied by her maid, Lucille went on “ little shop- 
ping expeditions that resulted in great and numerous pack- 
ages sent after her to Schillingscourt. She made the most ex- 
pensive purchases, with the nonchalance of one having millioni 
at command. 

One afternoon she stormed, somewhat confused, into Mer- 
cedes’s apartments, after returning from one of these “ little 
expeditions,” her eyes glowing excitedly through the pale, 
thin veil she wore. 

“ My cash is all gone,” she exclaimed, “ and I require five 
hundred dollars to pay a few little debts I’ve contracted!” 

She extended her neatly gloved little hand to Mercedes, in 
anticipation of having her request complied with at once. 

“ Why, you have just received a like sum,” Mercedes re- 
marked, a trifle disturbed, and would have added something 
more, but Lucille would not let her finish. 

“ Oh, pray don’t take me to task for such a dab! — five hun- 
dred dollars! My mamma used to spend more than that on 
porters and hotel servants when she went abroad. To be sure, 
to such paupers as we are that is wealth. Bah! why don’t you 
call me to account for the bread I eat, Madame Mercedes? 
This looks like the brilliant life I was promised when I was 
induced to go to America. I’ll wager my head ” — she ran 
her finger across her throat with the words — “that you pre* 


146 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


gume upon your authority in acting so contemptibly mean witti 
me about money matters, and I am not going to tolerate it 
any longer/^ 

She came to an abrupt pause; the money was on the desk 
before her. Without another word Mercedes pointed to the 
bank-notes. 

Lucille slipped them into her pocket. “lam going to take 
Pauly out; she needs a new hat.-’^ 

“ The child is asleep in the nursery, tired out with romp- 
ing.” 

“ I shall wake her.^^ 

The little mother ran toward the nursery as if she had not a 
moment to spare; but Mercedes reached the door before her, 
saying, impatiently: 

“ Lucille! to frighten the child out of a refresh- 

such a whim!^^ 

lady pushed by the speaker and opened the door. 
Deborah sat beside the crib of the sleeping child, who was un- 
dressed, with the exception of a thin slip. 

“What stupidity the mother angrily exclaimed, “to 
undress a child just for an afternoon nap. Pauly, Pauly! 
wake up, baby!^^ 

The little tired eyelids raised and fell again in complete 
fatigue, and Deborah stood before her charge pleading to have 
her “ get her nap out. 

“ I donT know what to think of you, Lucille,’^ Mercedei 
remarked, looking in alarm at her excited sister-in-law. 

“ Think what you please !^^ the lady snapped. “I hope I 
am at liberty to take my child out if I feel disposed to do so! 
Deborah, dress Pauly immediately. The little sleepy-head 
will be awake by that time."’ ^ 

“The child shall not be disturbed, Mercedes said, with 
cold decision. 

“ What is the matter with Pauly, auntie?^’ the sick boy 
cried from the adjoining room, his voice trembling with weak- 
ness and anxiety. 

Mercedes caught her breath in alarm, and changed her voice 
to coaxing tones with Lucille. 

“Be sensible — do. Let the little one rest and take her 
later. 

“ I wonT do it!^^ The pretty face under the veil grew quite 
red, as if the little lady were struggling with a flood of tears. 

At this moment Minna entered . the room, dressed for the 
street, and looking at her mistress impressively and respect- 
fully, said: 


ing sleep for 
The little 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 




** It is getting late; if my lady wishes to attend to that bush 
ness to-day — 

Lucille did not wait for her to finish the sentence. Turning 
upon Mercedes as if she contemplated scratching that lady's 
eyes out, she hissed rather than spoke: 

‘‘ You have always been my evil genius, you yellow gypsy, 
you! You have interfered with me, and robbed me of my 
triumphs wherever you could I Presuming upon your cotton- 
bale wealth, you have crowded yourself to notice. You stuck- 
up Americans don't know anything about personal charm and 
beauty, and you probably thought the ‘ little Dutch girl ' 
would play the servant; failing in that, you have made your- 
self my ‘ trainer.' But it is my turn now, Donna de Valma- 
seda! I'll show you what Lucille Fournier is in Germany, 
and how they value me — where I have but to move, and young 
and old glow with enthusiasm for me! Heavens! when I 
realize this, I wonder how I endured your dull kind of exist- 
ence for eight long years. " 

She took the parasol she had thrown on a chair on entering 
the nursery, and sailed out of the room, trailing the rustling 
silk behind her at great length. Approaching the sick-bed, she 
passed her hand caressingly over Jose's face, saying, jestingly: 

“ Hurry and get out of this cage, dearie; you are as well as 
a fish again, and ought to have been out pla3dng with Pirate 
this long while. Be a little man ! don't let them feed you like 
a baby any longer. Good-bye, sweet." 

A few minutes later she entered a passing cab that her maid 
had hailed, and the two were driven to town, to make more 


•Donna Mercedes looked after the vehicle with a frown. 
Would that the pretty inmate would take a notion to — stay 
away! 

Mercedes started guiltily as the involuntary thought flashed 
through her mind. She saw the reproachful face of her 
brother, with his dying appeal to her for his treaspe, and the 
sacred promise she had given him, and with which she had 
made his last days peaceful. Oh! wonderful thing is this 
woman's heart! Strong and all enduring in great suffering, 
and bearing the thrusts of destiny without a murmur, but fem- 
ing itself wounded and almost conquered by the needle-pricks 
of a wicked tongue. 

Ashamed of her momentary resentment, Mercedes seated 
herself at Jose's side and endeavored to restore the little feL 
low's composure. His bustling little mamma's visit had ex- 
cited him so that his pulse began to beat feverishly, and hi| 


148 


IK THE SCHILLlKGSCOtrUT. 


nerves quivered at the least noise. By the time this excite* 
ment had abated night had come, and Deborah asked whether 
Pauly might take her supper with Aunt Mercedes, as her 
mamma had not yet returned. 

Mercedes glanced anxiously at the clock. The little lady 
had never remained away this late before. A feeling of inex- 
plicable fear began to possess her — that mysterious apprehen- 
sion begotten of a dread lest our guilty wishes should suddenly 
be realized, to our own sorrow and regret. 

She stepped to the window, and was somewhat quieted by 
the activity on the street. People were promenading, carriages 
rolled by, and all was life abroad. '’Twas absurd to be alarmed 
about the little lady, who had probably forgotten the passage 
of time while sitting in some restaurant nibbling at dainties. 

The supper-table was still waiting. Pauly had been given 
her bread and milk and put to bed. Mercedes paced the floor 
in restless anxiety, occasionally pausing at Jose’s bedside to 
watch the little fellow, who seemed, to have imbibed something 
of her own inquietude. At last Jack returned from a fruitless 
search along the streets, where he had recently accompanied 
Lucille on one or two occasions. He had inquired in the stores 
and restaurants she visited, but the pretty little American 
from Schillingscourt had not been seen that day. 

Thus ten o’clock struck its somber toll from the Benedictine 
steeple in the vicinity, and Mercedes, no longer able to contain 
herself, went to Lucille’s apartments, feeling as if the little 
bustling lady must be there. 

The place was in disorder, as usual. The floor was covered 
with articles of wearing apparel. Before the large dressing- 
mirror lay scattered the evidences of a hasty toilet. The 
wee slippers lay as the wanton little feet had kicked them oft'; 
a dressing- jacket was flung in another direction; gloves, im- 
patiently cast aside at the first trial, kept company with dis- 
dained laces and ribbon; the dainty powder-puft had followed 
the slippers after its last service in beautifying its pretty 
owner-. 

The searching lady paused on her rounds, the floor seemed 
to float from beneath her feet; with trembling hand she 
reached for the white envelope her eye had espied on th« 
dressing-table, addressed to herself. \Vith tottering form she 
sunk into a chair. She knew what had happened — blind that 
she had been not to perceive Lucille’s intentions in the aftei’^ 
noon — that she was going away — to stay. 

“Jose is well again,” the little lady wrote,' in her airy 
fashion; “ and I claim a leave of absence— that is, I take it, 


Iir THE SCHILLIHGSCdURT. 


149 


for I should never receive it from you. Thank God that my 
boy has begun to mend seriously, for a few days more of wait- 
ing and I should have gone mad! Did you really suppose that 
I could endure German air without returning to the scenes of 
my triumphs, and where I am received again with open arma 
and shouts of joy? At last! at last! Every day spent in this 
abominably tedious place is a deprivation to me, and robs me 
of so much of my glorious youth that, alas! has been sadly 
sacrificed as it is. I am off for Berlin, for an indefinite time. 
I take Pauly with me. The child shall have a glimpse of the 
world from which her mother sprung — there alone is life — all 
outside of this stage existence is a bare and perpetual same- 
ness — 

Mercedes threw the letter aside without reading the last 
lines. Notwithstanding her indignation and the tears that 
welled to her eyes, she rejoiced to think Pauly was not with 
the thoughtless mother. She comprehended her anger now 
when the ‘‘ little sleepy-head would not respond to the lady’s 
hasty call to “ wake up!” 

What a mean trick! What perfidy! What an egotistical 
creature it is! Not out of mourning for her husband — a child 
scarcely escaped from the grave — she had, indeed, proved that 
she loved the boy wliile he was so ill, and she had loved her 
husband, also, and promised him, on his death-bed, that she 
would not forsake Mercedes and her children — and still she 
had thrown off the fetters, in her insane desire to be admired 
and to enjoy life according to her ideas of living, and flown 
like the bird that flies bhndly, because it must use its wings. 

Mercedes took the letter and placed it in her pocket. A 
flood of crimson suddenly mantled her face. How unfortunate — 
how painfully unpleasant! the thought entered her mind. Lu- 
cille’s absence made her, alone, Baron Schilhng’s guest. 

She hastened back to her own rooms. 

My sister-in-law has gone to Berlin for a few days,” she 
coldly explained to Hanna and the two colored servants. 

Deborah’s eyes rolled with a fright-inspired glance toward 
Pauly’s little bed— pretty nearly that sly mamma had carried 
off her darling — but she ventured no word of questioning. 
The faithful servants comprehended that they were to forget 
the hours of solicitude for the absent lady, and simply know 
that “ she had gone to Berlin.” 

Mercedes trusted that the lady’s unadvised absence would 
not be remarked, but, to her dismay, the very second day 
after her departure bills began to pour in, with marginal 


150 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


notices to the effect that the American lady had probably 
foi^otten to settle the little matter."’^ 

Kobert, who generally received the bills at the door,^ was 
doubtless the busybody who had spread the report of Lucille’s 
unexpected departure. He would knock at Mercedes’s door 
timidly, and deliver the ominous document on a silver salver 
with a conscious importance, and accept his dismissal in a 
short “ That will do,” and return to the waiting collector, 
smiling with malicious blandness, and show his empty hands, 
saying: 

If people will trust every strange female who happens 
along, they must expect to grow wise by experience. We can’t 
be responsible for people who intrude upon Schillingscourt 
hospitality!” 

Lucille had taken advantage of her position as Baron Schil- 
ling’s guest; and the purchases she had made amounted to no 
mean sum. Mercedes readily judged what the little lady con- 
templated doing with so extensive a wardrobe obtained on this 
credit, and Jack was sent immediately to settle all demands. 

The two faithful negroes watched their mistress with deepest 
interest, but never uttered sympathy during these days. They 
had stuped that face from the cradle; they had never known her 
to weaken or despond. Without a change of feature she had 
looked at the wound-dressing of her arm; had smiled scorn- 
fully when her house had been invaded in search of hidden 
rebels; nor lost her dignified bearing when the fiames were 
devouring the home of her childhood, with its precious con- 
tents and holy associations. She had offered them their free- 
dom, but they would not accept it, feeling that with such a 
brave and noble mistress they would be taken care of for life. 
But in this land of strangers they fancied the beloved lady was 
losing some of her firmness. There were times when her eyes 
would flash with anger, and the haughty lip curve with an 
emotion impossible to suppress, and she paced the floor often* 
times like some caged being, helpless to escape from the invisi- 
ble bars. She realized for the first time in her life what it 
was to be attacked with calumny — unprotected by the friends 
of a lifetime and the sacredness of a long-established char- 
acter. Like a serpent, the circumstances of her position 
Wound themselves about her — she felt the poison-fangs only 
after they had entered her soul. Lucille had left her alone, 
to create a sensation among her former friends in Berlin; but 
how long would she be gone? Oh ! how fervently she prayed 
that the little selfish mortal would return before the baroness 
came home and found her, alone, the guest of the baron; and 


m THE SCHILLIJTGSCOiniT. 151 

she also feared that Lucille's imprudence might accelerate the 
consumptive tendencies of her constitution. 

Four days of restless waiting and anxiety passed, and still 
the pleasure-seeking lady had not returned. Every time a 
carriage passed the door Mercedes hoped the next would bring 
her. Every time the door opened she started with nervous 
expectation, only to be disappointed. The fifth day at last 
brought some signs of life from the absent — only a thin letter, 
to be sure, but Mercedes tore the envelope open with trem- 
bling fingers, and after one glance over the first lines her 
heart sunk hopelessly: 

“ I am in heaven, and all Berlin is enchanted! What were 
mamma's triumphs to the victory I have achieved! I am liter- 
ally buried in fiowers, and my parlors are so crowded with 
enthusiastic visitors that I was forced to seek a retreat for the 
purpose of dashing o2 these few lines. Yes, I live again! It 
is a glorious existence, there is none other to compare with it! 
The preparations made in secret, and that for which I have 
worked ever since my feet have touched German ground again, 
has succeeded. And since your meddling can be of no avail 
any more, you may as well know the truth — I made my debut 
last night as Gesilla." 

Great God! the consumptive woman dancing on the stage, 
and receiving the applause of the multitude, when every 
step she took was like whirling into the arms of death. This 
explained the little lady's amusement," and now these ex- 
tensive dry-goods bills were accounted for, and the hasty de- 
parture for Berlin. Blind Mercedes! How unpardonably 

naive and innocent " was that sister-in-law, and what a neg- 
ligent guardian she had proved herself toward the charge in- 
trusted to her by Felix, who must have feared just such a step 
on Lucille's part — and she had cheated them all — the bird had 
fiown and was fioating in an atmosphere that might be her 
death at any moment. 

Mercedes rose hastily; there was no choice, she must go to 
Berlin. Once more composed and energetic, she made prepa- 
rations for an immediate trip. She must, however, inform 
her host of the intention, and place the children in his care 
during her absence. 

Her face became red — she was in a painful dilemma. Ho^f 
could she see him and explain matters, after their unpleasant 
parting. To write would scarcely answer — to ask him into her 
room after his curt dismissal, she had not the courage — ^ha 
would ceiiainly be justified in refusing to come. 


152 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUET. 


A brief struggle with her pride, then she took Lucilla^i 
letter and went to the studio. 

It was about four o^clock in the afternoon. The hot out- 
door air was prostrating, as if it was wafted upon her from the 
glass panes of the conserratory. How she did long that the 
gentleman might observe her approach and gallantly come to 
the rescue; but not a studio door opened, although Pirate, 
who lay sprawling indolently upon its step, bounded up to 
meet her with joyous barking. 

She opened the greenhouse door. The first sight that met 
her eyes was a cluster of the very blossoms she had so dis- 
courteously rejected on their last meeting. Her heart beat to 
suffocation, and her face flushed with shame; these blossoms 
nodded gently to what she deemed her humiliation. 

She turned away her head and walked firmly and with 
intentional bustle toward the studio entrance — she wished the 
baron to become aware of her presence — but the spluttering 
fountain waters drowned the noise of her approach. 

The green curtain drooped over the door-way, but left a free 
space through which she saw the ^artist at work before his 
easel, brush in hand. He was absorbed in critical examina- 
tion of his object, and Mercedes was reluctant to disturb the 

g srfect silence of nature by a word. But at this moment 
obert appeared from behind the Gobelin curtain on the gallery 
and came down the winding stairway, carrying a valise and 
traveling duster. He turned his face in an opposite direction, 
as if he made it a point not to see the lady entering the studio. 

She stood, with the curtain lifted in her hand, upon the 
threshold, and spoke in a voice at which she was startled her- 
self, it was so hoarse and brusque. 

‘‘ Baron Schilling, will you be good enough to give me your 
attention a moment 

He started, and his face crimsoned. She observed that her 
presence affected him unpleasantly. His eyes gleamed coldly 
blue, and a sarcastic smile accompanied his movements, as he 
laid aside his brush and politely motioned for her to enter 
and be seated, saying: 

Ah! a visitor from — caprice 

She bit her lip, then looked expressively at the man who 
pretended to be engaged with the baggage while lingering near 
enough to overhear their conversation. The baron bade him 
be gone. 

' Donna Mercedes extended Lucille’s letter, as if desirous of 
making the interview as short as possible, 
la the letter from Mrs. Lucian?” 


iK THE SCHILLmGSCOtRT. 


1^2 


** Yes, from Berlin. 

I know about what it contains/’ said he, declining to read 
it. “I have also received a letter from her. She has made a 
most successful debut. ” 

Mercedes smiled sadly. A great honor for our name — 
and I am to blame that it is printed upon a play-bill.’’ 

“ If that is the damage it will suffer you need not fear it 
will be dishonored by being associated with genius. I am also 
condemned by many of my friends because I earn honest bread 
thereby, and labor, rather than play the gentleman as the ad- 
ministrator of my wife’s estate. ” 

She felt herself hit. Her scornful “ Yes, with his wife’s 
money!” was set aside with one blow. 

‘‘ I really do not see how you are accountable for the rash 
step your sister-in-law has taken. ” 

“ I trusted her to a ridiculous extent,” 

I did not imagine a trusting nature lay beneath those eyes, 
dear lady.” 

Her face glowed like a flame at these politely uttered words. 
How she must have wounded and offended him to produce 
such resentment ! 

‘‘lam fully conscious of the misfortune that would not let 
me look at life with the gentle gray or mild blue German eyes; 
but I wiU strive to bear with the evil. I am not, you see, vain 
enough to contest for a place among the Holbein Madonnas. 
I have some idea of German patriotism. That which will not 
fit the feminine type, the German artist coolly wipes out — hke 
yon eyes. ” 

She pointed to the canvas with the dark streak of paint 
across the face, where the unsatisfactory eyes had been. 

In cleaning the place, the canvas had evidently come to the 
surface again without the knowledge of the artist, for he fol- 
lowed the direction of her hand with surprise, and a dark 
frown gathered upon his face. 

MerSdes laughed softly, and the baron started at the 
sound. That serious mouth was not given to shovung its 
pearly teeth in merriment — even now there was decided mock- 
ery in the curve of the lips. 

“ Possibly the artist created those eyes under that line of 
paint without his own volition, ” she remarked, sarcastically, 
“ but it was rage that da^ed them out — or caprice!” 

Without a word more on the subject it was ended by the 
baron, who took up a knife and cut the picture from iti 
frame, rolled it together, and locked it in a drawer. 

There wae a rustling of garments. Mercedes had retreated 


154 


IK THE SCSlLLIKGSCOtJRT. 


to the door. She no longer smiled, her face was like marble 
against the dark curtain she lifted, then turned a moment, 
saying, quietly: 

‘‘ I am about to leave Schillingscourt, and am forced^ to ask 
your supervision and guardianship for the children during my 
absence.'’^ 

“ You are going to Berlin?” 

I am — to get Lucille; she must come back.” 

‘‘ I am of the same opinion; but can you catch the lark that 
is already soaring in the air?” 

Her jubilation will vanish when she is made to understand 
that this air is surely death. I shall take with me the most 
celebrated physicians I can find to convince her.” 

You hope to inspire her with fear of death? — ^you, who 
scorn such an emotion?” 

Oh, pray — no comparisons!” she exclaimed, haughtily; 
“ I can not bear to be compared with Lucille. I was a 
thirteen-year-old child when she came among us, and I cried 
then bitterly; she was a blot in our house, with her uncultured 
ideas and flippant conduct — my house with its refined atmos- 
phere, created by my proud grandpapa and my mother — ” 

She pressed her hands excitedly upon her breast, as if striv- 
ing to quiet the tumultuous emotions there. “ My God! 
How I despise the being that can forget so soon! Felix would 
have sacrificed every drop of his life blood for her — and she — 
she is dancing over his new made grave 

“ And you are anxious to resume this despicable burden, 
he asked, looking her squarely in the eyes, and drag your 
young life down with such a responsibility? 

‘‘Is it not my duty? Can I break my promise? Felix is 
dead, but the pledge I gave him I considered as sacred as the 
pledge given at the altar that unites man and wife, and may 
not be taken back, though it became a chain that pressed us 
to the earth in spiritual death. ■” 

She paused, as if a secret had escaped her, and began to 
reach for the door drapery in a confused way. The baron re- 
placed the knife he had used in cutting the canvas on the 
table, and quietly rejoined: 

“ That sounds Spartan-like, aud its results would be de- 
cidedly 'contrary to true morality. There is danger in the 
obstinate carrying out of a code — it may lead a person into a 
system of extreme that leads into the enemy^s stronghold — a 
bad place even for brave people to retreat from.” 

She compressed her lips, and her haughty head bowed slowljr 
upon her breast. 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


155 


The baron came back to plain facts then, and added: 

“ You will not accomplish anything in Berlin. What do 
you expect to do in the event of Mrs. Lucianos absolute with- 
drawal from your protection 

‘‘ I will still cling to her, and follow her footsteps — 

“ Even into the green-room 

Mercedes involuntarily stepped back a pace. 

“ Ah, that you could not do. I knew it. With all your 
courage and energy, you would flutter about the place like a 
storm-tossed bird, and fly from strange glances and curiously 
inquisitive eyes, without having performed your mission. Per- 
mit me to attend to it; I had already decided upon going as 
soon as I received Lucille^’s letter, and am prepared for the 
trip. He pointed to his valise. I know I shall not accom- 
plish anything, however. From the tone of her letter, I judge 
she would prefer death on the stage, in the face of an applaud- 
ing multitude, to returning to your protection. She says you 
may keep Jose, but demands Pauly emphatically.^^ 

‘‘ She can not have her. Never 

“ Then let me go to Berlin. It will require more than a 
physician^s advice to bring the little lady to reason. We shall 
have to resort to the authority of the law. 

So be it then. And — I thank you.^^ 

How warm and womanly the three little words were uttered. 
How unlike the rude manner with which his floral offering was 
rejected, some time since, in the excitement of her humiliation. 

He did not seem to be conscious of the difference, nor ap- 
pear to see the hand extended with the expression of thanks. 
Looking at his watch, he hastily rang the bell; summoning a 
servant to take his valise, he strapped a small traveling satchel 
across his shoulders and reached for his hat. . 

Mercedes stepped into the conservatory, and, in passing by 
some blooming plants, her dress brushed hard against an over- 
hanging flower, tearing it from its stem. 

It fell at her feet, and. with a cry of regret, she was about 
to pick it up, but the baron anticipated the act. 

“ Never mind,^^ said he, coldly; a little floral nature hke 
that is not as sensitive as the human heart; it can enjoy itsi 
existence though suddenly transferred to a colder element. ^ 

He laid the blossom upon the edge of the marble basin, with 
the stem touching the w^ater. 

Mercedes passed out of the green-house and stood without, 
waiting for him. Looking down at the gravel she was apparent- 
ly interested in lifting with the toe of her boot, she asked, 
timidly; 


156 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCWRl. 


“ When may we look for your return?^^ 

In about three days/"’ 

That will seem like an age to Jos6. He is asking for you 
continually. Will you not step in and see the little fellow be- 
fore going 

‘‘ No — no!’^ 

She looked up now. His countenance was honestly express- 
ive of his emotions. He met her glance with an indignant one. 

I have conquered my longing to see him. We shall cele- 
brate our next meeting out here, under the trees. 

He lifted his hat courteously and departed. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

Pale and troubled, Mercedes returned to her apartments. 
She unpacked with her own hands, as she had packed them, 
the necessary articles required for the journey she had contem- 
plated. Jose sat among his pillows, playing feebly with a toy 
horse. His auntie remained with him for some time, then 
feeling the painful tumult raging in her bosom growing more 
stormy, she retreated to the window, where, free from his 
affectionately observing eyes, she could be at liberty to think. 

Pauly came toddling into the room with her doll, and looked 
up at her with those large questioning eyes — those bright 
scintillant stars ^ ^ that had lured Felix from life to an early 
death — Lucille^s laughing eyes. 

The child^s gaze was still innocent and sweet as a seraph^s, 
beneath that wondrous golden hair. Should she follow the 
footsteps of that frivolous mother unto the labyrinthian maze 
of a stage existence? No! no! Mercedes lifted the little one 
to her heart and embraced her with passionate tenderness. 
Oh, how often Felix had held his “ little comfort thus, and 
buried his suffering face in the soft curls during those last 
anguished days of his life I 

‘‘ Mercedes, take care of my babes he had moaned. “ Oh, 
Ood! could I rest under the sod if they should go astray?^^ 

With his last expiring strength he had written a letter, 
fraught with pleading, to his mother, and made such disposi- 
tion of his dear ones as he felt assured would be for their wel- 
fare. These papers and letters were in that silver-bound 
casket; it was against these last wishes that the reckless wife 
and mother had protested, and was now following the bent oi 
her own inclination, regardless of all. 

But these papers were authority for Mercedeses acts; sh» 
would rea^ “^hem again and gather new courage for her mis* 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOTJRT. 15 ? 

iion. She reached down for the box, where she had placed it 
on a lower shelf of her escritoire. 

The casket was gone. 

She sprung up in alarm. Her first thought was Lucille, 
has taken it.'’ ^ The little lady was well aware that the con- 
tents gave Mercedes legal power to act for her brother.- With- 
out these documents Mercedes was helpless, and the foolish 
mother might do with her children as she pleased. 

With frantic haste, Mercedes searched every possible spot 
where the casket might have been stored, but without avail. 
She called Deborah, who declared that she had not seen it 
since the morning after Jos6 was taken ill; she was confident, 
for she had dusted the place where it had stood regularly every 
morning. She had intended mentioning the fact, but as her 
mistress frequently locked things up inside the desk, she 
thought likely the casket had been put away in this manner — 
afterward she had forgotten all about it in the troubled days 
following, when Jos6 lay at the point of death. 

If this was the case, Lucille had not taken the papers, and 
the search began anew, Deborah, Mamselle Birkner and Han- 
na joining in. But all in vain. 

Mamselle Birkner asked if the casket was of great value. 

‘‘ I guess yes,^^ Deborah retorted; “ it is bound in silver 
thick as your finger!'’^ 

It contained important papers that can not be replaced, 
Mercedes explained. 

The mice have carried them said Hanna, softly, with 
a stare at the wall above the green-cushioned sofa. The 
mice in Schillingscourt know all about the secrets of the peo- 
ple here. 

Deborah^s eyes began to roll, and Mamselle Birkner made 
gesticulations behind the girBs back, implying there was some- 
thing like a disordered idea about the speaker; and then began 
to lament because their guests should suffer a loss in the dear 
master ^s house. Then she spread the calamity in the servant's 
hall, where the indignation was boundless, and not by any 
means sympathetic. 

“Well, things are coming to a pretty pass!" Robert ex- 
claimed. “We are now accused of robbing these paupers. 
Pine — very fine. But I shall inform you now that I have been 
correct in my estimation of these people all along; they air 
theater people! — do you understand— play-actors — trash. 
Didn't I tell you that all those glittering stones were imitation 
and stage finery? And those two blackamoors! Gad! how I 
should like to get them into a bath-tub, with a scrubbing' 


168 TN THE SCHTLLINGSCOUET. 

brush! I^II bet you weM liavo a pair of the whitest scoundrel- ; 
faces come to the surface that Germany ever saw. They have - 
got to get out of this — the w hole lot, bag and baggage. It^s r 
a disgrace to harbor them any longer at Schillingscourt!^^ 

There was a grand kitchen acclamation, and Mamselle Birk- ^ 
ner went helplessly out of the room. She knew who their 
guests were, but she was pledged to silence. - 

In the meantime Mercedes continued to search high and low" I 
in every room; she had handled the casket for the last time j 
the day previous to Josefs adventure and sickness, when she^ 5 
had laid the papers before Baron Schilling, together with the j 
letter to Felixes mother. This was sealed, but she was familiar : 
with the contents, and had repeated it almost w"ord for word ; 
to the baron. She recollected that he had admired the elegant ^ 
workmanship of the box, and assisted in refolding and replac- 
ing the papers^ — ^had w^atched her set the casket on the shelf. J 
The afternoon was particularly impressed upon her mind. ] 
She remembered how Lucille had fled from the room in broad J 
daylight, saying the mice -haunted w^all was too much for her. ^ 
Oh, those ‘‘ mice!^^ What an importance they assumed in the 
minds of some of the Schillingscourt people! 

“ Have you ever seen a mouse run across the floor here?^^ ■ 
inquired Mercedes of Hanna. 

‘‘I only hear them gna\^ng; I see little volumes of dust 
rising from that wall. 

The girl stood in a listening attitude, her face glowing with 
excitement, pointing to the ‘^haunted panel, with its lace- 
like carving, and looking indeed like the Crazy Jane Lu- i 
cille called her. 

‘‘ That may result from any concussion that shakes the 
house; the wood is very old. Be good enough, however, to 
have some mouse-trap set here at once.^^ 

The excited red vanished from the girFs cheeks at Mercedeses 
practical remarks, and she left the room to do her bidding, a 
little crest-fallen in manner. 

After the sun had gone down Mercedes left the house to give ' 
vpt to her suppressed feelings in the garden, in God’s free 
air. She was unutterably oppressed and anxious. At home 
she could have mounted her faithful horse, and given him the 
lines to bear her into the woods and over plains, away, away 
from care, until her heart expanded and life loomed up less 
burdensome! But this she could not do here — but the garden 
air was cool and fragrant. She walked toward the green- 
liouse. The gardener had opened the windows and doors to 
permit the plants to absorb the evening dew; the fountain 


IK TH-R SCHTLL1KG6C0URT* 


15 « 


«pray sung dreamily, and the exotics, with their rich foliage, 
caressed the watery’s edge. The flower she had broken ofl with 
her sweeping garments still lay where the baron had placed it 
on the border of the basin, gently rocked by the moving waters, 
and looking as fresh and color-bright as its companions bedded 
in the warm earth. 

The baron was right; the little blossom was not as sensitive 
as the human heart that had been changed by one chilling 
touch. 

“ This bearish German thought Mercedes. There was 
not a particle of gallantry in his nature. How unlike those 
chivalrous gentlemen that thronged her father^s parlor — she 
might have struck him with her riding-whip, and the chastis- 
ing hand would have been caressed for the blow. To be sure, 
this tame submissiveness disgusted the spirited young lady, 
and there were times, after her engagement, when she had 
tormented poor Valmaseda outrageously in her endeavor 
to make him assert himself. But there was a vast difference 
between the challenged retort polite, and a regular humilia- 
tion such as this man had subjected her to. Had she not con- 
quered herself and made a decided advance toward peace — and 
had he not repelled her, and uncivilly ignored the attempt? 
That hateful head. It was ugly, with its square forehead, 
prominent nose, and firm mouth. She noticed it the first 
time she saw him, and it had inspired her with an inexplicable 
fear at once as if some overwhelming trouble faced her that 
she could not escape, and ever since she had felt as if ghe must 
be on the defensive. It was this that had made Germany 
hateful to her, and made her doubt the possibility of accom- 
plishing her mission. 

How deathly still it was in the adjoining atelier. Mercedes 
looked through the glass partition and saw the twilight shad- 
ows fall upon the unique arrangements of the interior, the 
odd bric-a-brac, the gallery with its tapestry and winding stair- 
way. It seemed to her as if some antiquely dressed gentle- 
woman ought to come out from the mysterious shadows and 
glide down the steps, bearing on a silver salver one of the old- 
fashioned goblets filled with nectar for the artist. The self- 
willed mistress of Schillingscourt was not likely to do such a 
thing. She despised her husband^s “ occupation. ‘ ' Mercedei 
knew it. 


160 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURil. 


CHAPTER XXni. 

SiLEKCE reigned everywhere as Mercedes left the conserva- 
tory, the breeze was not strong enough to rustle loudly among 
the trees and shrub. But the splattering, as if some one were 
throwing stones into the waters of the lake, fell upon her ears 
as she neared this point in her rambling. She paused close by 
a rose-bush that hid her from view, for the purpose of observ- 
ing from whence the sounds came. 

A boy with long thin legs prowled around the lake, seeming 
perfectly familiar with tl3 situation, although Mercedes had 
never seen him before. He threw stone after stone into the 
water and danced about, laughing to himself meanwhile like 
some crane-legged imp. 

This must & that bad, tricky boy, who had induced Jos6 to 
follow him into the Cloister House, thought Mercedes — the 
heir to millions, the last bearer of the Wolfram name, for 
whose sake the orphans were to be robbed of their rightful in- 
heritance by their grandmother. A holy wrath rose in Mer- 
cedes’s bosom. This gyrating, ugly little imp was to blame 
for the recent sufferings of her pretty, gentle-hearted Jose, 
who had barely escaped the jaws of death. 

She approached noiselessly a few steps nearer to get a better 
view of him. She did not want to scare him away. But she 
had forgotten that her dark dress had been exchanged for a 
white morning-dress, and she did not know that the sight and 
hearing of this bad boy was keen as a lynx. 

He turned his head quickly in her direction, and the instant 
the white figure caught his eye he dropped the stone he was in 
the act of flinging and ran toward the hedge, ducked to the 
earth, and disappeared as if he had been swallowed up. 

Mercedes walked to the spot where he had vanished. There 
was still a crackling and rustling of shrubs. Here was the 
place poor innocent Jose had also crept through, and walked 
upon the ground where his father had played in childhood, 
and entered the dark, strange house of his grandmother, that 
hard-hearted grandmother for whose sake the orphans had 
come across that great expanse of water. 

Mercedes rarely wandered as far as the lake, and since the 
day she stood watching, with horror-expanded eyes, as the 
men were dragging the watejfs for the body of her darling. 


m THE SCHILLlKGSOOURTr 161 

dreading lest the blonde head should rise to the surface of the 
dark pool, she had not been near this spot. 

A creaking sound broke the silence. A door opened and 
closed on the other side of the hedge; then footsteps came 
directly toward that part of the hedge where Mercedes stood, 
and caused her to retreat a few steps, as if the figure would 
walk through the seemingly impenetrable thicket upon her, 
and she turned away to go back to the house through the 
sycamore avenue, but had gone only a short distance when she 
turned her head, as if attracted by some irresistible magnetism, 
and remained standing — to meet two glowing eyes, that seemed 
to devour her with eager questioning, that rose above the 
hedge. 

She had seen that head with its hair diadem before. The 
waxen-white face and the sharply curved thin lips were the 
same that had wailed at the window of her room one night the 
heart-rending word, Dead!^^ 

Mercedes’s pulses stopped with surprise. She knew now 
who that night-walker was. It was the inexorable woman who 
had cast husband and son from her, and made them exiles 
from home and fatherland. She was still fine-looking, this 
statuesque being — the predecessor of the beautiful Spanish 
lady — Major Luican’s first wife. The two whose fate she had 
so ruthlessly took into her own hands were dead; the strongly 
built and well-constituted figure there had survived them — she 
lived — and suffered, ^^emesis had overtaken her. Who could 
tell how long it gnawed at the woman’s consciousness? There 
were signs of a softening heart — a blonde-headed boy, with his 
father’s face, was constantly before her mental vision. The 
grandmother’s affection 'was stronger than the mother’s anger 
— it grew and throve in her weakening heart as the young tree 
forces its way out of the hard, dark earth to the light. 

Mercedes approached the woman, who was evidently stand- 
ing on a bench, for the hedge could not be overlooked in this 
way from the ground; both arms were extended in parting the 
branches, and thus she ^ood motionless. 

Thus she may have stood daily since Jose’s illness, looking 
about for some of the servants who might inform her of the 
condition of the little fellow who had met with such abuse 
from the trickery of the Cloister estate heir. 

Mercedes was near enough to her now to see every feature, 
notwithstanding the falling night, and she was able to read 
something of the nature in that face, and she began to under- 
stand the power before which father and son had to yield— 
and retreat. 


6 


162 


m THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


I would like to hear how the boy— 

You mean Jose Lucian/^ Mercedes interrupted, quietly, 
but her heart beat with such rapidity and force she thought 
the woman must certainly hear it. But with a cry she started 
back, and the branches closed between them for an instant, 
then they parted again, and the waxen face appeared, but with 
a threatening frown and ferocious expression. 

“ Did I ask for any names? I simply wanted to know 
whether the boy — will live. My son^s little son,'’' she was 
adding, when a shrill voice interrupted her, and she turned 
with a silenced, startled look. 

Mercedes saw a serpentine figure creep along a branch of the 
tree on the other side of the hedge, and Hien glide down the 
trunk to the ground, with the agility of a cat. She heard a 
pair of sharp heels scamper toward the house, and a croaking 
child-voice scream: 

‘‘ Ah, ha! Aunt Teresa, I'll tell papa on you! ITl tell him 
you are talking with the people at Schillingscourt. You told 
me not to speak to anybody over there, and you do it your- 
self!" 

A door opened and closed with a noisy clatter; then the 
woman disappeared also. Mercedes looked in vain for her re- 
appearance, until hasty footsteps receding from the hedge told 
her she had followed the boy to the house. 

How strangely Mercedes felt. She had stood face to face 
with Felix's motlier. She had entertained a bitter hatred 
against this female tyrant, and since her first view of the 
Cloister House, from whence her father's first wife had been 
chosen, she had experienced a feeling of contempt, mingled 
with a sensation of contact with something low, in associating 
the inmates of such a place with her father and brother. This 
feeling had vanished at sight of the fine, haughty-looking 
matron. She now considered it possible that she might have 
been Major Lucian's early love, and she began to understand 
why her brother was so anxious to propitiate this mother and 
win her affection for his little ones. The cold, hard exterior 
that hid a glowing soul was the enemy they had to do battle 
with. The iron nature of the Wolframs, this had made her 
what she appeared, and this had caused her to turn away from 
the womanly emotions away down in her heart, as if they were 
untrustworthy counselors. Mercedes acknowledged a secret 
sympathy with such a nature — but singular problem that it 
was, this woman, who had made herself such a power in the 
lives of her own, with her unyielding will, had but now re- 
treated before the malicious threat of a child! Mercedes heard 


IK THE SCIilLLIKOSCOURT. 163 

the reopening of a door, followed by a harsh, masculine laugh, 
accompanied by a few scornful utterances, that appeared to 
affect the woman to whom they were addressed but little. She 
replied with imruffled calmness. Every word fell distinctly 
upon Mercedeses hearing. 

" ‘ Am I your prisoner, Frank, or are we to stand in tlie re- 
lation of guardian and ward toward each other in our declining 
years? Let me alone! Why should I not ask how the child is 
doing, for whose sickness we are to blame With these 
words the door was closed, and all was silent. 

Like one in a dream, Mercedes returned to the house. The 
lamps were lighted, and a stream of light fell upon her from 
the hall; but, at the first step, she started back in surprise. 
The opposite door was open, and a tall figure, followed by a 
second, less gray-clad and apparition-like in soundless move- 
ment, glided in, and swept familiarly and searchingly along 
the marble entrance. 

‘‘Great God! what a beggarly looking house !^^ a peevishly 
hysterical voice exclaimed. “ The doors are spread open as if 
it were a public-house, and not a servant in sight! Pray, 
Adelaide, ring the bell as hard as you can. 

The lady in black went to the vestibule and did as she was 
bid; but the bell made no sound. She then hastened toward 
the southern corridor, and called imperiously: 

“ Eobert! Where are you?^^ 

The commanding tones resounded to some purpose; half a 
dozen servants came to the call, headed by Eobert, who hum- 
bly stammered: 

“ Pardon, my lady, I had only gone to the kitchen for a 
drink of water. Your ladyship came so unexpectedly.^^ 

The baroness silenced him with a motion of impatience, and 
asked, with angry pettishness: 

“ What does this neglected condition of my house mean? 
The doors wide open, as if it were a tavern, the bell toneless 
with rust, the garden gas not lighted, and — she lifted the trail 
of her dress, which was fringed with straw — “ since when has 
it been customary to turn the garden walks and halls into 
bedding for horses ?^^ 

The gardener was mute and confused, but Eobert began to 
explain. 

We are none of us to blame for that, gracious mistress; 
indeed we have all been mad enough to fight about the way 
things have been going on in this house the past weeks. The 
baker left the front door open behind him as usuaJ, and I am 
not allowed to lock the door because the bell has been taken 


164 


IN THE SCHILLING SCO UKT. 


down, not rusted, as your ladyship supposed. The gas in the 
garden has not been lighted, the fountain's water turned off, and 
the streets and walks covered with straw, simply because a 
child belonging to the people stopping here has been sick with 
typhus, or some other fever like that.^-’ 

Mercedes could scarcely resist the impulse to step forward 
and declare this to he false, that it was neither typhus nor any 
contagious disease, but she seemed rooted to the spot. To 
meet this woman for the first time, in the presence of imper- 
tinent servants, would not do. To force herself to meet her 
at all, and express a polite gratitude for the hospitality enjoyed 
would be a severe trial. The long gray visage was not an in- 
viting one, and her face flushed with momentary rage as she 
exclaimed, holding her handkerchief to her nose: ‘‘ Typhus! 
mercy! I trust the baron did not remain here during the 
time?^^ 

The servants exchanged peculiar glances. 

‘‘ Your ladyship knows the master fears nothing. He re- 
mained at the child^s bedside day and night, as if it were his 
own."’^ 

The baroness turned to her companion with a fierce and 
questioning laugh. But this lady shrugged her shoulders, say- 
ing, coldly: Are you surprised at that, Clementine 

“ Is the child still sick?^^ the baroness asked, suppressing 
her feelings, and pushing bits of straw from the hem of her 
dress with the point of her parasol. 

“ Oh, yes, your ladyship; he is far from being able to be up 
yet."" 

Good heavens! how annoying! I have no disposition to 
inhale this vile atmosphere. Have disinfectants placed 
throughout the halls at once! Where is the baron?"" 

‘‘ He started for Berlin on the five o"clock train this even- 
ing,"" was the ready reply, as if the cunning man had been 
rolling this bit of delightful information under his tongue 
charged for this question. But if he expected his mistress to 
exhibit amazement he was disappointed, for she only flushed 
slightly, but not a feature changed. She lifted her eyes to the 
Woman in black, however, and if Lucille haff seen the fii-e in 
them she would have been obliged to retract her words — that 
the baroness had deathly lusteiiess orbs. 

‘‘ Have you any recollection of seeing any hint of this trip 
in his last letter to me, Adelaide?"" 

The l2;dy shook her head. 

‘‘ Oh, /»ur ladyship, that is easily explained,"" Robert ven- 
tured tL remark. “ He was himself in ignorance of it this 


in THE SrHTLLTN-GSCOtrET. 


165 


tnoming. Such unexpected journeys are nothing new here 
HOW. A few days ago one of the strange ladies went away 
just as suddenly and secretly as if she were going on the sly. 
Robert peered cautiously in the direction of the haunted apart- 
ments as if he feared being overheard. He had touched a 
tender nerve this time. The baroness rose to an imposing 
height, drew her veil over her face, and once more shook the 
clinging straw from her trained dress. 

“ Adelaide, we go to Berlin on the nine o^clock train, she 
exclaimed, in excited tones. 

‘‘Not so, Clementine, the other replied, dictatorially; 
“ you require rest and repose. We remain here.^^ 

“ Repose laughed the baroness. “ I am going, and that 
immediately!’-’ 

Her companion approached her and laid her hand upon the 
golden cross resting on the bosom of the baroness. 

“Clementine, see here; you are in danger of losing your 
cross on the way. What would our beloved abbess say to 
that? She gave you this memento with her own hands.” 

The eagerness died out of the tall woman’s face as it bent 
over the ornament. She pressed it mechanically to her lips, 
while the speaker engaged herself in fastening the ribbon 
firmer about her throat. 

“ Go and prepare a dressing robe for your mistress,” she 
ordered, as the maid appeared, laden with traveling wraps. 
“ And tell Birkner to have the rooms put in receiving order 
at once.” 

“ They are all ready, ” Birkner replied in person, coming upon 
the scene with a welcoming courtesy for the ladies. “ Luckily 
the rooms have this very morning been thoroughly cleaned 
and aired.” 

“ Indeed! notwithstanding my orders!” the baroness ex- 
claimed. “ Did I not distinctly say that no one should enter 
my apartment during my absence? I suppose my private 
property has become public use — I might have known it!” 

“ Your pardon, graoious mistress — ^no one would have ven- 
tured to enter «the rooms had not the storm beat in the door, 
and broken the glass panes to the one opening on to the ter- 
race. The place was in a horrible plight; the rain had beat in 
upon the dust that lay finger thick on everything. The glazier 
has been here, and the rooms are in order again.” 

While speaking the good old soul had approached nearer to 
her mistress, who retreated with repellingly extended hands, 
saying: 

“ Stay where you are, Birkner! And from this moment 


166 


m THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


never dare to enter my rooms again'. All! my house must be 
cleansed of such pestilence!’'' 

‘‘ Do not agitate yourself, Clementine, the canoness re- 
marked, taking the baroness by the arm and leading her away, 
ordering supper to be served as she led the mistress of Sch: - 
lingscourt up to her rooms, as if she were her ward. 

The servants scattered; Birkner, good soul, wiping the tears 
from her eyes, and Eobert remarked in a whisper to the gar- 
dener, pointing to the old housekeeper: 

‘‘ She has got to go, that is fixed! God Himself can’t save 
her now. She and Hanna are the only Protestants at Schil- 
lingscourt; they have been an eye-sore to my lady long enough, 
and still she didn’t dare send either of them away, without the 
baron’s consent before. How, that she has been to Eome and 
to the convent — she looks as if she had been there — she is more 
decided, and Miss Eiedt is mercilessly at her heels. Birkner 
has got to go!” 

The odor of musk permeated the hall as Mercedes passed 
through on her way to her rooms, possibly the favorite per- 
fume of one of the two ladies just gone upstairs. A gray veil 
seemed to have fallen over the place; Mercedes thought those 
heathenish figures standing about ought to come down from 
their pedestals and niches to creep into some dark corner to 
hide their nakedness; she wondered how they had been able to 
maintain their position this long in the face of such fanatical 
zeal. 

Mercedes could not sleep that night; she did not seek her 
bed at all. It required all the native strength of her character ’ 

and sound sense to collect the events of the day and arrange i 

them for clear and concise consideration. How was the time i 

to stand firm. A hand, timid and uncertain as yet, was 
reaching over from the Cloister estate and seeking for the \ 

children of a disowned son. j 


OHAPTEE XXIV. 

With the break of day the hush that had pervaded for 
weeks at Schillingscourt was impudently broken, and the 
servants moved through the marble halls with noisy footsteps. 
Men were busy with rakes clearing away the straw about the 
premises. The fountains were playing merrily again, and 
cutting the bright morning air willi their silvery sprays. 

Mercedes watched the proceeding with composure. Jose 
h^id slept splendidly and awakened strengthened and refreshed, 
undisturbed by the noise around him. Little Pauly stood on 


IK THE SCHILtTK<3SC0URT. 


167 


a chair at the window in Auntie Mercedeses room, and gazed 
delightedly upon the rainbow colors of the fountain waters as 
they were kissed by the morning sun. The wee creature 
looked like a blooming little elf, standing with her baby shoul- 
ders and golden curls rising above the pale blue, lace-trimmed 
frock. Mercedes, dressed in a white morning wrapper, stood 
at her side, her hand laid caressingly upon the pretty head — 
but her gaze wandering aimlessly into the distance. The 
baroness, accompanied by Miss Eiedt, dressed as they were the 
previous evening, came into the garden at this moment. The 
large gold cross glittered upon the bosom of the gray dress, 
the gray gloved hands held a velvet-bound prayer-book. The 
ladies were evidently returning from early devotion at the 
Benedictine church in the vicinity. 

The baroness looked even more worn and frail — more repul« 
sive — than on the evening before, by lamp-light. Felix had 
said the woman was not the cold, passionless being she seemed 
— and the suppressed passions had gnawed consumingly upon 
this long angular exterior — ^her features were sharply drawn-— 
she looked wrinkled and wasted as an aged woman. 

Miss Eiedt scrutinized the parterre closely. The laborers 
were still at work clearing away a last few stray bits of straw, 
but the baroness glanced covertly in the direction of the win- 
dows where Mercedes and the child stood. An instant they 
rested upon the picture, then the glance became one of amaze- 
ment, to change as rapidly to fierce hatred. Then the head 
bowed upon that frail bosom again, and she passed on as if 
she had observed nothing. 

Soon after the physician came — not from the street direct — 
the baroness had sought an interview with him before he came 
to see his little patient. He was an honest man, and his face 
expressed indignation. He requested Mercedes to avoid meet- 
ing her hostess (?), as that lady would persist in believing 
there was typhus fever in the house, and she had an insane fear 
of contagion. The halls are smoking with “burned offer- 
ings, as if the Grecian goddesses were holding a festival,^’ the 
sarcastic gentleman remarked, alluding to the pans of char- 
coal standing about with their disinfectant properties. 

He found his patient decidedly better, “ But I beg of you, 
tnadame, be careful; a relapse is possible. I hold you ac- 
countable for his well-doing. He must not be moved at pres- 
ent. 

It would be difficult to guess what the doctor feared after 
his visit to the baroness. He had become quite attached to 
Jos6, &nd appeared to entertain the m.^st profound respect for 


168 


m THE SCHTLLIHGSCOURT. 


Donna Mercedes. Whatever he may have heard upstairs, it 
was certain he was not influenced by it. He was more deli- 
cately respectful, if possible, than before, and at Jose’s plead- 
ing permitted the piano to be opened for the first time since 
the little fellow was taken sick. 

Mercedes opened the instrument and began a soft prelude. 
She was not a genius by any meanS;, nor a brilliant performer. 
Her nature rebelled at anything like tame practice, as the 
blooded horse rebels at the bit. She played wildly harmoni- 
ous, as if the sounds carried her chained soul in them. She 
loved her piano because she could talk to it. She played on 
no other musical instrument. 

A thrill of pleasure beamed from her face as her fingers 
touched the keys again, but she only played a Beethoven sym- 
phony, and touched the keys softly, that the notes might not 
jar upon the invalid’s nerves. The mellow tones were sug- 
gestive of the conservatory— the studio — the man with the 
square forehead whose taste had made it so poetical. The 
crowding thoughts vexed her. She suddenly dashed off into 
a wild melody, that made Jose hold his breath and the doctor 
lean back in his arm-chair and listen with utter satisfaction. 

Directly the door was opened, without any previous knock- 
ing for admittance, and Xtobert rushed in, as if he were the 
bearer of some hasty and important news. 

‘‘ My lady the baroness requests you not to play. Music is 
not permitted around Schillingscourt. Even the hand-organs 
are never allowed to stand in front of the house, because my 
lady can not endure music. ” 

“Is it^ possible?” laughed the doctor. “Not even hand- 
organ music? But how is it that she happened to hear the 
^ piano? her apartments are remote from here.” 

“ The ladies are breakfasting on the terrace, and the noise 
can be heard there plainly. ” 

“ The witches!” the old doctor grumbled, taking his hat for 
departure, while Mercedes rose and closed the piano. 

The servant remained, but Mercedes did not appear to notice 
his presence, and the impudent soul, who felt himself au- 
thorized to show an insulting manner toward the guest not 
noticed by his mistress, advanced a step nearer and extended 
R paper. 

“ If you please,” he began. 

Mercedes measured him from head to foot, with a glance so 
majestic that he involuntarily retreated, and said more hum- 
bly: 

“ I have here an account. The lady that went away did not 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUET. 


m 


pay for the carriage she came in. I settled with the driver; 
there are also other little expenses that I made note of. I 
have presented the paper to the baroness; she says it"s no affair 
of hers. 

Your mistress is right. You will go to my servant Jack 
with such matters. 

Robert smiled, as such beings smile upon people who are 
supposed to be ‘‘ paupers. 

“ I have never seen him have any money, and go to head- 
quarters, on principle, with such things. 

Donna Mercedes compressed her lips like one suffering tort- 
ure. She silently unlocked the chest that had been so heavy 
to carry when she arrived. It was filled to the brim with 
gold pieces. 

‘‘ Take what belongs to you!^^ said she. 

He started back, as if a flame had risen out of the chest to 
scorch him. He had entered the room confident he would not 
find a penny of indemnity, and here stood a chest full of gold 
as carelessly guarded as if it were dust. 

He was crushed. Humbly he bowed to this lady who had 
such oceans of gold, saying: 

“ Oh, gracious, madame, I can not do that!^^ 

‘‘ Take; do as I bid you!’-’ said she, imperiously. 

Timidly he took up one of the gold pieces, and felt in his 
pocket for his purse. 

‘‘ It does not amount to so much. There is more than half 
due you*in change,” said he, beginning to count some trifling 
pieces of money upon the table before the picture of ‘‘Poor 
Valmajseda,” the South Carolina Orceseus. 

Mercedes pointed to the door. 

“Go! Never trouble me in like manner again. My serv- 
ants attend to my affairs; when you are wanted in my rooms 
you will be sent for.” 

The man pocketed the gold piece quickly, and hastened out 
©f the room, muttering: 

“Ass! blockhead that I have been! How I have cheated 
myself all this time! — well, it’s too late now. Fritz,” said he 
to the porter, “ I’ve been mistaken; all the gold and glitter 
in there is real; and the niggers too — and such piles of money! 
—gold, I tell you, gold! chests full of it!” 

Mercedes stood lost in thought; an expression of disgust 
mingled with painful surprise rested on her face. The limit- 
less impudence of the German servants in this house had at 
last reached a point from whence she began to see what it 
meant. She had at last found a weapon of defense. What her 


170 


isr THE SCHILLINGSCOUIiT. 


individuality had failed to inspire — the respect due a guest 
from a domestic — her gold had suddenly won for her; and this 
was hospitality! Blind that she had been to judge and act in 
the house Baron Schilling had offered as a refuge to the 
children of his friend as she would have expected others to act 
in her house, were the circumstances changed. What a whole- 
some lesson! 

She thought of the cellar keys carried away by the baroness. 
This lady was not only maliciously artful — she was penurious 
as well. Mercedes wondered whether she would be justified in 
offering to pay — no, the rudeness was an insult. Gould she 
venture to send the lady some jewels.^ AVhat would he think 
of such a proceeding. She covered her troubled eyes with her 
hands, and leaned back in her chair to consider. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

The fervently longed for mistress of Schillingscourt had 
returned; but the anticipated fun of the spitefully inclined 
domestics did not take place. The lady had been prostrated 
by the shock she had received when she found her house in 
such a state of confusion on her arrival, and the absence of her 
husband had not conduced to the welfare of the lady^s deli- 
cately irritable nervous organization. She had resigned her- 
self to remaining at home when informed by her favorite 
Robert that the baron was expected back in the course of a 
few days — but the fact did not improve the temper of the 
‘‘ gracious mistress — she even declined to see Minka; the 
little black canaille had also been in the convent. 

The pans with their smoking disinfectant were not to be re- 
moved until the baron returned and v/itnessed the distress and 
discomfort he had subjected his invalid wife to. His protegees 
were not molested — but they were utterly ignored — Mercedes 
avoided meeting the ladies, and retired from the windows as 
soon as they appeared in going and coming from their visits to 
the Benedictine church morning and evening. 

Mercedes naturally experienced a sensation of just indigna- 
tion when she saw this woman, who did not consider her hus- 
band's guests worthy of the common courtesies due even a 
stranger beneath his roof, and whose supercilious nature thus 
set aside the simplest rules of politeness and good-breeding; 
but the nameless feeling of antagonism that rose in rebellion 
against this being, with her gray trail and generally colorless 
ensemble, was a puzzle to herself. 

Two days had gone by. The third was eventful with won- 


m THE SCHIIJ.INOSCOHET. 


Bering whether the baron would bring back witli him the run- 
away. She felt confident whatever his report might be, ho 
would not come to her room with his news, after saying he 
would meet Jos6 again only when he was well enough to come 
to him in the garden. 

About the time the afternoon train from Berlin w^as due she 
left Jose with Hanna, and went to the greenhouse to await 
the baron^s return. Pauly was romping near the studio in 
Deborah^ s charge. 

The atelier door between the conservatory and studio was 
wide open; the curtain was drawn back, giving Mercedes a full 
view of the remarkably artistic arrangement of the interior 
from where she sat in her retired nook under the myrtle vines 
of the greenhouse. She endeavored to pass the waiting min- 
utes in reading the book of poems she had brought with her, 
but she was too anxious with her own expectations to become 
interested in her book. Suddenly Pirate set up a terrific bark- 
ing. Strangers were evidently approaching; Mercedes drew 
back further in her green retreat,, but the barking ceased and 
no one drew near the greenhouse entrance, but a moment 
later the Gobelin curtain on the gallery in the studio was 
pushed aside, and the baroness appeared with noiseless foot- 
steps. Miss Kiedt followed. 

‘ ‘ I dislike going down there, ■’ ^ the latter remarked. ‘ ‘ Every- 
thing has been carefully put away up here, as you convinced 
yourself yesterday; and there, where all is open to the public 
eye, to a certain extent, you will not be likely to meet with 
better success in your search.'’^ 

The baroness, however, ignored the advice, and glided down 
the winding stairway. 

Mercedes trembled. She could not escape without being 
seen — and she would not have come in contact with the lady, 
before the barony’s return, for any price. 

I have never been here before, the baroness said, with 
spiteful satisfaction, taking a sweeping view of the place. “I 
have kept my vow that I would never enter the place, or 
countenance his ‘ profession,^ until this hour — and he will 
never know that I have broken it now. Just look around you, 
Adelaide. Is it not a ridiculous sight? My money should 
not have been wasted for such trash; he knew that well enough. 
What a senseless spendthrift he is! He pays enormous sums 
for litter like this, just as he pays atrocious prices for the 
wines those beggars he entertains guzzle 

The speaker gesticulated vehemently, and suddenly glided 
into the greenhouse, in her lioiseless fashion, and locked the 


m 


IN' THE SCHILLIITGSCOURT. 


door leading into the garden^ placing the key in her pocket, as 
if she might thus only be secure, saying: 

** The servants are tattlers — and he need not know I have 
been here. 

Mercedes felt like a culprit indeed, and found herself in a 
most midesirahle position; but there was no help for it now, 
but to keep quiet and await the result. She experienced a 
repugnance in being forced to play the spy upon this spying 
wife., but to discover herself now and demand the key of exit 
would be fruitful of ill only. 

The baroness re-entered the studio and went from case to 
case, opening every drawer. Most of them contained sketches 
and etchings. She was evidently hunting some tell-tale bit of 
paper or letter. Her companion remained standing as if 
rooted before the easel, and an exclamation of vindictive anger 
escaped her lips. 

Leave off your despicable spying, Clementine, and come 
here and see for what your indolence is to blame she said. 

“ Good heavens! what have you to complain of now?^^ the 
other replied, petulantly. She had just found an envelope, 
and was studying the letters of the superscription with jeal- 
ousy-flashing eyes. 

“ Is not this a lady^s handwriting?^'’ she queried, extend- 
ing the envelope. 

“ I never meddle with other people^s letters, was the cold- 
ly reprimanding reply. “ What are you so meanly inquisitive 
for? Suppose it contained proofs of your husband’s faithless- 
ness ” — the wife’s face glowed at these words — “ it would not 
make him as guilty in our eyes as this picture. Look!” 

But the baroness did not seem inclined to “ leave ofl spy- 
ing ” to look at a picture, and pettishly retorted; 

“ Oh, pshaw! You won’t look at his letters, and I won’t 
look at his pictures!” 

“ Alas, that it is so!” the woman sternly replied. “ You 
boast of never having entered his studio; and I now realize 
that your place was here night and day for the purpose of pre- 
venting an outrageous and world-wide scandal. This picture 
is of the vilest signiflcance and tendency ever yet presented to 
the public! Do you see that apostate, that female heretic, 
who has been cast out of the blessed by the Almighty anger? 
She bears the halo of a martyr — her face is glorifled, while that 
of her pursuers, who hold the weapon of true religious zeal, 
are presented as if they were fiends and blood-thirsty devils! 
And such things come to life and color from his brains while 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


17a 


you Are walking at his side, thinking only of your egotistical 
desire to make your husband a sighing slave to your passions 
The baroness stood beside the vehement speaker in a trice. 

“ Shameful she exclaimed, glaring wrathily at the girlish 
form, over whose partly draped bosom the mother was trying 
to throw the scarf covering her own white hairs. “ What a 
licentious idea! And yet he acts so reserved and ascetic — 
while secretly studying and reveling in such sinful indecencies I’"’ 
Donna Mercedes plainly saw the contemptuous face of the 
canoness as she turned her big, fiery eyes upon the speaker. 

“ I see nothing sinfully indecent there, she replied. “ The 
most pious monks have transferred the human body in all its 
nude beauty to their pictures. The sin is embodied in the 
idea the picture presents. It makes my blood boil when I 
think that here in your home such a blow is aimed at "our 
Church; everywhere Catholicism is attacked, and the faithful 
threatened. And here, here upon the ground stolen from our 
Church, stands this blasphemous picture! What care I for the 
documentary rights of the Schillings and that heretical family 
on the Cloister estate? The spot of earth once consecrated to 
the Church is unalienable, and belongs to her forever; though 
she be cheated out of her rights for centuries, eventually she 
will have her own again, and it is the duty of every true 
Catholic to aid her by every means, human or divine!” 

With a movement of unspeakable hatred she turned her 
back upon the picture, adding, vindictively: 

“ Oh, would that I had the rights of a wife or the authority 
of ownership! I would break the brush before his insolently 
sacrilegious eyes and dash the colors in the dust at his feet. I 
would not leave a thread of that canvas together, though I 
had to tear it to atoms with my teeth!'’ 

Like one castigated, the baroness turned away, just as Pirate 
once more began to bark, but with evident canine joy — some 
one had released him from his chain. 

I should like to poison that beast!" the baroness remarked. 
But the heart of the woman hidden in the myrtle beat fear- 
fully. She knew the baron must have unchained Pirate. He 
would probably enter the studio through the private door lead- 
ing to the gallery — and there stood his wife with the confiscated 
envelope in her hand, and one of the case doors, through which 
ehe had been rummaging, still ajar, unconscious of her com^ 
promising situation. Mercedes, with a noble, womanly im- 
pulse, was just about to give a warning cry of the baron's ap- 
proach — but it was too late; the baton stepped out on the 
galktvj with Vmlj on hk arm. The little one to to 


m 


IN THE SCHILLIHGSCOUET. 


neck with both arms, in childish delight at the meeting with 
her beloved friend again. Pirate pressed his way past him and 
raced like mad down the stairs toward the startled ladies; the 
envelope fluttered upon the floor from the hand of the baron- 
ess. But the lady’s self-possession was disturbed only for an 
instant. She slyly pushed to the case door, in lifting her hand 
as if in alarm from her dress, against which Pirate was bound- 
ing dog fashion. 

“ Do you want that brute to murder me?” she called up to 
her husband. 

“ Here, Pirate!” the gentleman exclaimed, and the dog 
bounded up the stairs again, and was put out of the door be- 
hind the curtain. 

‘‘ I am sorry for the fright I have occasioned you, Clemen- 
tine; but the dog is not as dangerous as he looks,” the baron 
said, coming down, Pauly still cuddled to his neck so closely 
that her blonde curls mingled with his beard. A painfully 
ironical smile played about his mouth as he noticed the letter 
lying at her feet. I had not the remotest idea that you 
were at home, and certainly could not dream of seeing you 
here — here. It is really a surprise, Clementine.” 

He bowed distantly to her companion, and extended a hand 
to his wife. 

I shall not shake hands with you while you have that 
child on your arm, ” she said, chillingly. “ I want no strangers 
present at our meeting after such a long absence.'” 

His eyes turned with a meaningly sarcastic glance upon the 
canoness who stood near mute, with arms crossed upon her 
bosom. 

‘‘ Adelaide is no stranger!” was the pettish reply. 

“ And Lucian’s child is very dear to me,” said he, putting 
the little one down and taking her tiny hand in his own. It 
was not extended to his wife again; her weak limbs refused to 
hold her any longer, and she tottered to the iiearest chair with 
a moan: “ I am suffocating, Adelaide — my salts!” 

The little flask appeared from the pocket of the lady in 
black, and the baron opened some of the windows that were 
closely draped, saying: 

‘‘I am afraid the studio has been badly ventilated during 
my absence. ” 

Oh, it ia not that!” the fainting lady exclaimed, or J 
should have died over in that pest-laden air at the house' 
Poor me and Adeladie have done what we could to protect our 
jselves from contsgioa.” 


IK THE SCHILLIKG8C0URT. 171 

What I has Josefs sickness assumed a dangerous phase?'* 
the baron cried, in alarm. 

Jose? Who is Jose?" the baroness queried, with a lan- 
guid air. Do not imagine I have taken the time and pains 
to inquire into your affairs sufficiently to familiarize myself 
with names. I only know that I found the house in a most 
disreputable condition — the servants demoralized, and no dis- 
cipline whatever, under that stupid housekeeper, Birkner, who 
;Sihall receive her walking-papers this time, without mercy. 

Indeed?" 

Indeed — ^yes! I shall certainly discharge her — rest as- 
sured of that! Oh! how I suffered the evening of my return 
from the peaceful holy abode where my girlhood was passed 
— to find a comfortless home and no welcome — my husband 
gone!" 

“ My absence was in consequence of a duty I could not 
avoid." 

‘‘ Oh, of course! to run after a dancing female." 

There was a sharp retort upon his lips, but he repressed it. 
But the look he gave the frail, pale women, told better than 
language could express what a tortured, miserable man he 
was, notwithstanding his declaration to Lucille to the con- 
trary. 

“ You mean Lucian's widow, Clementine," he quietly re- 
marked. ‘‘ I have nothing to do with the Fournier dancer." 

“ Oh, dear! such subtle hair-splitting distinctions are too 
much for my simple comprehension; however, suit yourself. 
Such a pretty little widow is doubtless a stage attraction for 
some gentlemen. Apropos — this Donna de Valmaseda is also 
a widow, I understand. You forgot to communicate this in- 
teresting fact. " r 

Did you not distinctly tell me you did not wish to be bored 
with Lucian's affairs?" 

Good Lord! Who is talking about those old concerns?" 

Mercedes felt as if she must fly from her hidden corner, and 
put an end to the conversation. She saw the flush rise to his 
face as her name was mentioned, but guilty embarrassment 
lamed her limbs. 

“ Does the fact of the lady being a widow make any differ- 
ence in her attitude toward me? I promised Lucian I would 
receive his children. It is of no importance to me who brought 
them — " 

‘‘But to me! This woman, with her plantation airs and 
manners, is an abomination to me. She suggests the whip, 
and looks as if she had practiced its use. These aristocratic 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


m 

jilaye-owning ladies are notorious for tlicir ovei'bearing tyranny. 
They have villainous tempers, I am told. 

He made no reply, but stooped to speak to Pauly, who ap- 
peared surprised at not being noticed and petted, as ladies 
were m the habit of doiug when they saw the fair babe. 

Come, Pauly, let us go in and find Deborah and Pirate,’’^ 
said he, lifting the little one in his arms and going up the 
stairs with her. 

“ He is not looking well, and has come home in a bad hu- 
mor,^'’ the canoness remarked, when he had disappeared be- 
hind the Gobelin curtain. 

The baroness jumped up spiritedly and began- to arrange 
things as she had found them, and restored the letter from 
whence she had taken it. “ ITl settle that humor for him,^^ 
said she; “ but to see him carrying that young one about as if 
he were a child’s nurse — caressing the ugly tow-head so ten- 
derly — that is what maddens me!” 

“ An unusual demonstration of affection on the part of child- 
less men,” was the peculiarly emphasized rejoinder. 

The baroness glared upon the speaker with wrath-distorted 
face; a flood of vituperation seemed hovering upon her tongue; 
but at this instant the baron began to rattle the lock of the 
conservatory door. He had left the child with Deborah and 
returned by the garden entrance. 

The baroness involuntarily placed her hand upon her 
pocket; the next moment a key turned in the lock, and her 
husband entered, saying : 

Why, Clementine, did you fly into the studio? I found 
the doors locked on the upper and lower entrance, and this 
one also.” 

I got a key from Robert. I thought it would do no harm 
to look after things here a little during your absence.” 

You are very kind. A heroic self-sacrifice on your part, 
in my behalf, to conquer your aversion to the place simply to 
see that it is kept in proper order. You found the floors badly 
swept, envelopes scattered about, and spying servants leaving 
drawers and doors open while caught in the act of investigating 
and prying into my private affairs; I see you have been kind 
enough to clear away the traces of their detestable inquisitive- 
ness. ” 

If she experienced any shame at being discovered in her ques-» 
tionable undertaking, she gave no outward evidence of it. 
Lifting her train and giving it a slight shake, she replied, with 
the utmost composure: 

‘‘ you are lamentably served, it is very dusty hm. 


m THE 'SCHILLIHaSCOURT. 


17 ! 

But it seems to me you are annoyed at my presence. Do not 
fret— I shall come no more. JBut I am glad that I have, fot 
once, overcome my dislike to the place, and taken a glance at 
what it contains. That picture on the easel— do you con- 
template giving it public exhibition 

“ Certainly, it is going to Vienna.-’^ 

“ This glorification of rank heresy you have the face to pre- 
sent to the world as your work?^^ 

“ Shall I deny my own child he laughed, good-humored- 
ly, as he drew near the easel, as if to protect that favorite 
“ child, his pet creation. 

“ A degenerate one exclaimed his wife. ‘ ‘ Ask Adelaide. 

‘‘ What! a criticism from those lips?^^ he cried, with wither- 
ing scorn. The canoness and the baron were hitter enemies — 
from the bottom of their hearts they despised each other, and 
their glances met as the words left his tongue. 

“ Pray, do not imagine,'’^ she retorted, equally cutting, 
‘‘ "that I have any desire or would exert myself to study the 
technicalities of your art. It is not my vocation. Color and 
outlines interest me but little, and general features and mo- 
tives do not attract my attention, as a rule; but a corrupting 
idea that the pencil and brush endeavors to immortalize ex- 
cites me to indignation. This apostatical woman here — she 
pointed to the dying Huguenotess — wears the expression of 
a glory-inspired martyr. 

“And justly so. Or shall I falsify history to oblige a 
bigoted canoness 

“ As if the whole picture were not a vile falsehood!’^ she ex- 
claimed, with a fury she strove to suppress in speaking. 
“ That sacred night called Bartholomev/^’s night, every hand 
that directed a weapon at a Huguenot heart was the chastising 
hand of God himself 

“I beg your pardon. Miss Riedt, but I can not have the 
quiet of my studio disturbed by doctrinal bickerings. 

“ And are not you exciting such contentious by your works 
in the most criminal manner?^^ 

“Ah, to be sure! every reasoning mind and every thinker 
who ventures upon making a stand for truth is marked a 
criminal! He is accused of profane tendencies— but I believe 
I have already remarked that your criticism is superfluous. 
Wherever you have secured a footing, Miss Riedt, you manage 
to maintain your ground, and spread like a creeping plant over 
the territory, absorbing whatever might have been good in 
your dangerous fibers. Thus you have forced yourself into 
piy house, and made yourself master over a woman whose natu- 


m 


m THi? SCHTLLTNOSCOtJRf. 


rally obstinate nature scarcely required such training. I 
have retired from the field — I leave it to you. ' I have no wish 
to continue battling for a place that is daily and hourly barri- 
caded anew with an almost insane fanaticism. And here, in 
the holy presence of my art — my never-ceasing fountain of joy 
and comfort-— all that I have to live for, here the owls and 
bats shall not enter — 

‘‘ Arnold The baroness sprung toward him and grasped 
his arm with both hands, her face expressive of intense dismay 
and pain. ‘'Arnold, unsay that — take those words back! 
You do not mean that you love your art better than your wife? 
No, no! it can not be!^^ 

He stood unmoved. 

“ I have spoken the truth. I have chosen my art — she up- 
lifts and ennobles. She does not drag me into dark, abject 
corners to find only deceit, falsehood, tyranny, and the vacillat- 
ing moods that rule the heart of woman — she is always true 
and loyal. 

“ Have I not been true to you?^^ 

“ You cultivated the friendship of my enemy — a woman 
who has sown discord between us. Let her deny, if she can, 
honestly, that she has spoken to you of your husband in terms 
of reproach; instigated you to rebellion — made complaints. 

“ Are you then so sinless and perfect that you give no cause 
for complaining?’^ the canoness scoffingly asked. 

A scornful smile flitted over his face. 

“ A diplomatic evasion. Miss Eiedt, a speech that does the 
Cloister missionary justice. I am not sinless and perfect. The 
Schillmgs are of the earth earthy, and I am a fair representa- 
tive of the race in character, and they were not celebrated for 
lamb-like natures or notoriously submissive husbands. I am 
afraid I can not point out even one who was tied to his wife’s 
apron-string. They have doubtless been hard creatures to 
manage, but in the annals of our house there is no record of a 
faithless wife who permitted a contumacious attack upon her 
husband’s honor behind his back, much less make such an at- 
tack herself. ” 

He bowed lightly as he finished speaking to the canoness, 
and opened wide the door leading into the garden — ^then turned 
to go up into the gallery. 

“ You order Adelaide out of our house?” the baroness ex- 
claimed, enraged. 

“ I think it is not the first time,” he replied, pausing with 
his hand on the baluster at the foot of the stairs. “ But as 
Miss Eiedt is following the dictates of a ‘ higher mission,’ sho 


m THE SCHILLIKGSCOUET. 


171 


is not likely to be ail'ected by a possible womanly intuition sug- 
gestive of so delicate a hint, that has failed in effecting the 
desired end heretofore. Some men might resort to stronger 
measures in banishing an evil spirit from their homes — I ab- 
stain, and simply request to be left undisturbed in the isola- 
tion of my studio in future. I shall not enter the house as 
long as your visitor remains. 

He hastened up the steps and disappeared behind the drapery 
of the gallery. 

The baroness made an impulsive movement to follow him, 
but the canoness was at her side, like a black demon clutching 
at a retreating soul. She uttered no word, but laid hold of 
the hand turned toward the gallery, and led the excited wom- 
an away. There was angry, willful protest upon the long, 
thin face, and she wrenched herself free from the vise-like 
grip; but she followed the form, nevertheless, that led to the 
.conservatory door, as if determined not to leave by the one 
the “ master of the house had opened for her benefit. 

‘‘ Put that key back in its lock,^^ she ordered. 

The baroness obeyed, taking the key from her pocket, and 
with tremulous tones, hoarse with excitement and pleading, 
cried : 

“ Leave, Adelaide, I beg of you!^^ 

‘‘ I remain was the determined reply. ‘‘ That wretched 
man shall not move me from my purpose. I shall be more 
steadfast than ever, since I have such a pitifully weak nature 
to support. How many times have you not promised to escape 
from these miserable fetters? When you are with us, you act 
as if you abhorred all earthly emotions; you play piety to per- 
fection, and the faithful guides of our youth believe firmly in 
your purity and cleanness of soul, and fancy you simply the 
sacrifice of the speculative old baron who made the match. 
You knew how to blindfold them to the truth, but you can not 
deceive me! If they all believe Schilling holds on to you for 
your wealth, and insists on keeping you from the order to 
which you belong body and soul for your money — I know bet- 
ter! I know you will not return, because you feed your unholy 
passion for him on the slender hope that he will yield to you 
in time. You have made a compact that you will return with 
me if ever Schilling gave you proof that he did not love you. 
He has done so now; his language, his actions not only denied 
his love for you, but evidenced absolute loathing. He ntrer 
loved you — ^never!^^ 


180 


inr THE SCHILLINGSOOUBT. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

At last the way was clear. With beating heart, Mercedes 
fled from her retreat into the garden. She saw Deborah and 
little Pauly flitting about among the trees. Pirate had been 
chained again, but he barked fmiously after the ladies going 
toward the Column House. 

As soon as Pauly saw her auntie, she ran joyously to meet 
her, carrying a box of toys, and displaying also proudly the 
many things scattered about that Uncle Arnold had brought 
from Berlin for the little one. There was not a word about 
the child’s mamma. Mercedes did not know whether to be 
glad or sorrowful at the little lady’s appearance. So much 
had happened to occupy her mind within the last few days 
that solicitude for Lucille had become a secondary thought. 
She dreaded the meeting between herself and the man she had 
unwillingly spied upon during a most distressing scene. 

She had been treated with such loving consideration by par- 
ents and friends that the possibility of brusque usage from 
him, after the stormy interview with his wife, caused her to 
wish the meeting with him were over. His remarks about the 
dark corners of a woman’s heart and her vacillating moods 
were like dagger-thrusts to her. He had. chosen his art in 
preference to woman’s love. Art was loyal and true. A 
woman had nerves and feeling, and earth’s dust lay upon her 
soul; hence she could not take flight into ideal regions that 
floated so loftily above the evil tongues of humanity. 

Such thoughts fllled her mind while sitting beside the play- 
ing child, until she heard his footsteps approaching. He ap- 
peared surprised to see her in the garden. 

“ I was about to send you word of my return by Deborah,” 
said he, with a distant bow. 

‘‘ And Lucille?” 

“Madame Lucille Eournier, as the theatrical cards an- 
nounce, will make her third appearance on the boards this 
evening,” he replied, with a meaning glance toward Pauly and 
her colored nurse. 

Taking the hint, Mercedes joined him, and they continued 
the conversation as they slowly promenaded along the syca- 
mores. 

“ There is no thought of the lady’s return. She laughed 
in my face at the suggestion, asking me where the chains and 


IK THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


181 


hEndcuffs were — for by such force only could she be dragged 
back into the old life — and whether I really fancied she would 
creep obediently back under your wings like a frightened little 
chicken that had caught sight of the hawk^ and^once more 
devour home-made breads after partaking of golden manna in 
the present paradise? I left her, shaking the dust from my 
feet,^'’ he continued, earnestly. ‘‘It is no longer a question 
of whether she is willing to return — she can not return ! The 
few years of her life spent at Lucianos side have perished out 
of memory, and this new existence is so unalterably connected 
with her mother’s associations that no trace of the eight 
wedded years is left in her bearing. Her rooms are thronged 
with fast men — the ancient fop. Prince Kousky, the central 
figure. As he was formerly ever at the beck and call of her 
mother, he now hovers about the new star of the theatrical 
world. I had considerable difficulty in gaining admittance to 
her presence — a guarding secretary arranging admitting pre- 
liminaries. Two gentlemen of my acquaintance were there be- 
fore me. The little lady reclined upon a couch robed in a 
white silk wrapper; a pet cur nestled in her lap, wearing a 
diamond necklace, that the fond lady had wantonly strung 
about its silken neck. She met me with a merry laugh. 

“Howl despise her!” Mercedes muttered, savagely, be- 
tween her teeth. 

“ You would probably have told her as much?” the baron 
remarked. 

“ Surely! such a scene would have disgusted me.” 

“ If the wise secretary would have granted you admittance.” 

Mercedes looked up indignantly; he was probing her pride 
rather severely. 

“ I know you would be subjected to many annoyances if you 
had resolved to see Lucille,” he continued, not noticing her 
angry start, “ and I was prepared for such little thorns my- 
self,” he laughed, pleasantly, showing his beautiful white 
teeth. “ She threatened me with half a dozen duels, because 
I declared she should never obtain Pauly — under present cir- 
cumstances.” 

“ No, never!” exclaimed Mercedes. “ A change is taking 
place over there,” she pointed to the Cloister House. “ The 
time is not far distant when authority must be transferred 
to other hands. ” She then related the incident of her meeting 
with Mrs. Lucian at the hedge. ‘ ‘ And strange, most strange, ” 
she added, “ this much-scorned woman, she whom I considered 
ft bitter enemy, is the only one with whom my nature seems 
to affiliate Biuoe I hare felt German grownd under my feet," 


182 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


The baron listened in amazement. She awakens an affinitive 
sympathy in my heart. 

Yes: it is the satanic element that puzzles us to find out 
whether these women with dark flashing eyes really are en- 
dowed with hearts^ or whether it is their misfortune to follow 
the bent of a rule that creates only misery instead of giving 
happiness. This species of female character is like the flower 
that meanly absorbs its own fragrance; consumes itself and 
dies before the glowing bud bursts into blossom — a flame that 
smolders upon its perishing hearth-stone, and lends no glorious 
warmth to humanity. My darlings, I pity them in such 
hands. 

‘‘ Then I must be a very cruel and heartless person, Mer- 
cedes retorted, spiritedly, but with a tremor in her voice never- 
theless, ^‘for I do not pity them. Felix was not mistaken. 
The woman over there will guard and care for the children 
like a man, and love them as only a true wnman can love. 
You acknowledge the congeniality of certain elements in our 
natures, hence you will allow that I am competent to judge of 
hers. Thus I know that remorse and regret are trying to 
burst that self-consuming bud, and the flame will come to the 
surface, and this ‘ meanly absorbing ^ love may be of a very 
differently concentrated power from that of the tamely com- 
pliant affection of a more gentle nature, that has a soft warmth 
for all the world, and beams upon all with its moon-like light. 
I shall be consoled, and find comfort in the thought that I 
have left my dear ones under the protecting care of their 
grandmother. 

Do you think of leaving them?^^ he asked, quickly. 

“ Well, yes; I^m going home to amuse myselfY^ she replied, 
with sarcastic emphasis. ‘‘ Have I not deserved it honestly 
after my German experience. 

“ Truly, you have,^^ he rejoined, his face flushing deeply. 
“You are justified in hastening the end to your martyrdom, 
and I would be the last to wish you to prolong it even an hour 
beyond absolute necessity. But we shall have to wait the ful- 
fillment of our sanguine hopes in regard to the old lady yon- 
der. 

Mercedes felt the solid earth waver beneath her feet. His 
words contained a rude shock for her self-esteem. There was 
a time when people had declared night approached at her de- 
parture. W as all the charm and beauty of her youth a thing 
of the past? She used to be disgusted with the open admira- 
tion she excited, but the attraction of her presence had ne 


m THE SCHILLIHGSCOIJET. 183 

effect iipo:a tj)\s stoical German who was so indifferent to her 
coming or going. 

She toyed savagely with the large promenade fan she car- 
ried, and handled it as if it might be a riding-whip. This 
action, together with the haughtily curved mouth and flashing 
eyes, was suggestive of the baronesses remark, that these slave- 
owning ladies were capable of using the chastising rod with their 
own hands. The baron watched her keenly, as he said: “ Bu^ 
this sacrifice may be spared you if you will consent to leave 
future developments to me. 

‘‘ Ah! You would imply that my presence is superfluous!’’ 
she cried, impulsively, and with quivering voice. “ Schillings- 
court is a home for the children of your friend Felix, and as 
such it is all that your kindness can do for them; but they re- 
quire also a woman’s affectionate care. They need it as a 
flower needs sunshine, and up there ” — she pointed with her 
fan toward the second story of the Column House — “ is a 
lady, your wife, Baron Schilling, whose heart is sealed against 
childhood, whose eye is offended when it happens to turn upon 
a little face at the window. ” 

You have been vexed — hurt.” 

“ Do you think I would permit any one to ‘ hurt ’ me?” she 
retorted, indignantly. I intended no complaint. I can not 
blame the lady for objecting to the noise and disturbance of 
children in her quiet home, and, under such circumstances, the 
burden and responsibility of the children can not be an agreea- 
ble one to you. ” 

I am fully competent to manage it,” he replied, cold and 
decisively. “ However, my proposition did not originate from 
any motive beyond the fact that you seem so anxious to leave 
this hated Germany. Felix asked too much of you. To be 
immured, as it were, here, and isolated, intellectually and 
socially, is a sacrifice, indeed/ on your part. It is robbing you 
of weeks of precious youth. You have been accustomed to 
social triumphs and admiration, to luxuriate in all that life 
can offer and beauty and intellect command. The cold, gray 
sky of Germany, and the fish-blooded people here can not com- 
pensate you for what your sunny land holds out. There you 
will find — ” 

‘‘ Sir, sir! There I will find — four graves!” Her eyes 
filled with tears, but she lifted them to him but an instant in 
unutterable reproach^ then left him and hastened to the 
house. 


184 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


CHAPTER XXm 

On the Cloister estate there reigned a heavy spiritual atmos- 
phere. The hired people pressed themselves into corners 
when the master^s step was heard, and listened in terror to his 
voice that rang all the day long in fault-finding tones. 

The senator had his cares and troubles. The coal mines de- 
veloped undesirable features. Innumerable little water-falls 
and constantly running springs were beginning to be trouble- 
some, and occasioned the master and the miners no end of 
anxiety. The mines lay in a valley of abundant fountains, 
and there had been considerable prognostication in regard to 
the undertaking of the avaricious Wolfram, who was said to be 
too mean to secure the mines properly for the^fety of the 
miners; and, of course, if bad luck resulted, it was only to be 
expected. 

The senator cared little for such gossip. He gathered in 
the dollars greedily, and cut down expenses wherever he could, 
until this water phantom rose, and broke into the mines hke 
so many silvery swords, and demanded attention to obviate a 
possible calamity. The attending expense was what caused 
the senator's bad humor. 

Mrs. Lucian did not appear to be affected by this threat- 
ened invasion upon her brother’s pocket-book. She was never 
a talker, or given to discussing affairs with the people about 
the estate, but they were surprised because the intercourse be- 
tween brother and sister seemed to have settled itself into a 
curt morning and evening greeting. However cross the sena: 
tor might be on his return from the mine, and storm into the 
house with his tyrannical face, she paid no heed nor asked 
one question. She brought in the supper, removed her 
kitchen apron, and took her seat at the table silently. Guy 
did the talking alone. 

But the lady had acquired a new and singular habit, that 
grew upon her daily more and more. She spent every spare 
moment from her household duties in the garden. She was 
•ither gathering vegetables or fruit, or busied herself with the 
bleaching-lines. The servant-maids declared she never allowed 
the bleaching to become dry, and was so constantly engaged 
with the watering-can that the young vegetables were in dan- 
ger of being killed with too much care. The people also 
noticed that §ho parsed a great deal of her time on the bench 


m THE SCHILLIKGSCOTTRT. 


1S5 


near the hedge, staring into the neighboring garden — an ex- 
traordinpy notion for the proudly reserved mistress — and 
most ridiculous, besides, to stand on a bench and show so much 
curiosity to see a ‘‘ big, waddling negro woman from Ameri- 
ca/^ They did not dream that she might be looking at the 
child in the negro woman ^s charge. 

Upon this particular day the senator's humor was really in- 
tolerable. The unhappy man had been forced to send for 
some persons who understood the nature of this perpetual 
water-flow, at a most heathenish expense. This was certainly 
most trying to his temper. 

Soon after dinner, however, he had gone to the mine. Mas- 
ter Guy perspired under the lessons of his private tutor, who 
had no comprehension for tricks and jokes. The kitchen-maids 
got their heads together and giggled as they watched the lady 
of the house hasten toward the hedge, as usual, when the mas- 
ter went away. She had not touched the coflee served after 
dinner; in fact, she seemed to have forgotten how to eat and 
drink lately. Her pale face was getting very thin, and her 
dresses were beginning to hang loosely upon the elegant form. 
The servants remarked that though she said nothing about 
the mine losses, she grieved all the more, or she would not 
have been a Wolfram. She passed heedlessly by the early 
golden pears that had fallen ripe upon the ground. Her ob- 
servation was keenly bent upon sounds from the other side of 
that thick hedge. She started at the slightest cry or noise, 
until she reached the bench, mounted it, and parted the 
branches of the hedge that obstructed her view. 

The sound of wheels upon the gravel under the sycamore 
attracted her attention. Jack was carefully pushing a wheeled 
chair along the avenue. The gleaming of' pale-blue silk cush- 
ions and spread could be seen through the shrubbery. The 
eagerly staring woman almost lost her balance as her eyes fell 
upon the white face and blonde curls resting on the blue pil- 
low. Then the chair was turned about, and she heard the 
wheels crunch over the gravel until they halted near the atelier. 

She stepped down from the bench and walked further along 
the hedge, and tried to part the branches there; but without 
avail. Then she carried a ladder that had been used in gather- 
ing fruit that stood near by to the end of the hedge, and lean- 
ing'«‘it against the old stone wall, mounted it until she had a 
view of — what she was seeking. She was mastered by one in- 
tense desire to look into the pale thin face in that rolling-chair, 
and convince herself that death had in reality retreated with 
its threatening hand. 


186 


m THE SCHimis^GgCOTJRT. 


She gazed into the little thicket of trees, and there, not fif« 
teen Rteps from her, stood the chair, and Jos^^s face wai 
turned toward her. It lay heavily among the cushions, and 
the golden waves of hair rested against a very delicate brow; 
but the expression was spirited, and the lips red as cherries, 
and this gave evidence of recovering strength and renewing 
vigorous blood. 

There was no one with him but Jack, who was picking dan- 
delions, and giving them to the little fellow to form into a 
chain with his little fingers. He seemed to inhale the fra- 
grant, balmy air with pleasure as he amused himself thus con- 
tentedly, and his face beamed with childish satisfaction. 

Go and get Pirate, wonT you, Jack?^^ he asked, as the 
dog^s whining resounded from the studio. 

“No, child, not yet; Pirate is so wild he will excite you. 
To-morrow, may be, ITl go and quiet him after awhile/’ the 
colored man replied, still gathering dandelions, deep in the 
grass at some distance from J os§. 

The eager watcher’s eyes glowed suddenly, as if with some 
irresistible power. She hurried down the ladder and fied to- 
ward the house by the back way, over the same dark passages 
followed by Jose some weeks ago, and entered the gable-room 
like some thief stealing in upon other people’s property. She 
unlocked a closet containing silver- ware in a remote corner, 
where once the despised sponsor present had been stored, upon * 
which the hated Lucian’s name had been engraved. From 
this corner the lady took a small silver cup, heavily gold-lined, 
of beautiful workmanship and peculiar shape. This was also 
a sponsor present to the little Teresa Wolfram from a wealthy 
friend of the family. Quickly passing a dusting napkin over 
it, she dropped it into her pocket, and hastened into the gar- 
den again, as she had come. 

One glance over the wall assured her that Jack had gone to 
quiet Pirate, and Jose was alone. Taking a key from tlie 
bunch at her girdle, tearing ofi her apron, she flung it from 
her, and with trembling hand inserted the key into the lock of 
a private door in the wall leading upon the street. It opened 
with a creaking groan — once before it had groaned like this, 
when clothed in snowy white, as he loved to see her, she had 
stolen away to fly into the arms of her loving soldier. One 
instant she hesitated now, but only an instant; then she 
stepped through the opening, and the door closed behind her. 

A few steps brought her to the neighboring garden gate; 
this she knew was never locked during the day. The next 
paoment she stood within it. under the shadow of the ancient 


IN THE SOHILLINGSCOHRT. 


187 


trees, like one in a dream. It seemed as if the form in the 
military dress must appear to fold her to his heart. The great 
yearning eyes of the woman sought the blue-cushioned chair; 
it and the golden hair resting there gleamed at her through 
the trees. The child had lifted his head at the sound of the 
opening gate. 

He looked astonished, but not alarmed, as he saw the wom- 
an approaching. Then she stood beside him, pale, unable to 
articulate the words that moved her lips. Like a little prince, 
the boy reclined there, who so recently had strayed among the 
cruel darkness of the Cloister House. His wrapper was 
trimmed with finest lace, and the blue, pale silk-lined cloak 
thrown around him was clasped with a superb chain and 
amulet. The old cloth weavers would doubtless have shaken 
their heads, could they Lave seen the aristocratic being that 
had in its veins some of their hardy blood, 

‘‘ Are you getting better she asked, bending over the boy, 
so close that his breath swept her cheek. 

Oh, yes, a great deal better — only I am so tired — and I 
want to play with Pauly and Pirate. 

Pauly is your little sister 

“ Yes; didn't you know it? See, is not this a pretty chain 
that I am making — will you have it?" 

Yes, dear child, and I will keep it." He hung the chain 
of dandelion rings over her hand, and she took it tenderly in 
one hand, while taking the cup from her pocket with the 
other, saying: 

“I have something for you also. You mtist drink your 
milk out of this cup hereafter." 

Jose grasped the beautiful gift with an exclamation of de- 
light. 

‘‘Oh, how lovely! I thank you." He lifted his arm to 
clasp her neck with an impulse of childish gratitude; and she, 
unable to resist, took the boy in her arms with a passion that 
would forget the loveless isolation of years — the remorse for 
cruelty — all the bitter, long, lonely past — in the burning ten- 
derness of the kisses that were rained upon his face. Then 
conquering her emotion, she laid him back upon his pillow, 
saying: 

“ And you will think of me when you drink from this ci^?" 
How soft and mild the words came from those lips! Who 
would have recognized that voice as hers? 

“ Yes; but what is your name?" 

My name?" The flush died from her momentarily ex* 


188 


Il!f THE SCHILLIHGSCOURT. 


cited face, leaving it paler than before. “ My name,’^ she re* 
peated, again, “ my name is — grandmamma.’’ 

With these words she hastened away. 

‘‘ Stay, won^t you?^^ Jose cried, pleadingly. 

She turned at the appeal, but Jack just then appeared, and 
with a farewell wave of her hand, she disappeared from his 
view, and the gate closed upon her. 

Like one wandering in a dream, the woman re-entered the 
Cloister gate. Master Guy had escaped from his lessons and 
was chasing about the barn-yard like a savage imp. But the 
tender kiss of the boy, with his soulful eyes and affectionate 
manner, still lingered upon the woman^s face. She had held 
him in her arms, this sweet child that would have graced a 
kingly palace with his beauty and gentleness; he was her own 
flesh and blood — the heart that had v rested against her own, 
as if flowing back from whence it came — had received its origin 
from her, and belonged to her, regardless of the harsh com- 
mand she had uttered: “ I never wish to see you again — not 
even after death 

Once she had believed it possible to forget and overcome, if 
one only had the stability. All these years she had hugged 
the empty name of her ancestors, and clung to their nature, as 
the oak reproduces its own knotty, hard nature, regardless of. 
the fact that some branches may be misshapen and ugly. She 
wanted to overcome herself — and ‘‘forget'’^ for the sake of 
this boy, who acted more like a wild beast than a thing of hu- 
man instincts, who^s cross eyes ever glowed for some victim to 
satisfy his cruel nature, who was a terror to every one, with his 
faculty for mischief and falsehood. One' of the dairy-maids 
chanced to cross his path at this moment, carrying in each 
hand a bucket of milk. She was helpless, and the oppor- 
tunity was not one the boy could overlook. His whip came 
down upon the girBs shoulder. She gave a cry of anger and 
pain. Mrs. Lucian sprung toward him, wrenched the whip 
from his hand, and threw it from her; he leaped at her like a 
wild cat. A shudder ran through her frame. This evil ele- 
ment must not touch her ever again. She kept him at bay 
with her flst raised. 

‘‘ Keep away, or I shall whip you as long as I can lift my 
hand,^^ she said, v/ith a determination that he understood. 

He had felt the strength of that hand once, and respected it. 

‘‘ ITl tell papa on you when he comes; heTl fix you!^^ the 
boy screamed, running toward the house, where he had a store 
of other whips and clubs. 

The senator, however, had returned; his sister saw him 


11? THE SCHILLIHGSCOtJRT. 


m 


standing in the door, when his hopefui had given the girl the 
blow with his ever ready whip, and just because he had not 
reprimanded the act, she had undertaken the duty herself. 

She walked into the kitchen, and taking a pan of currants 
that had just been brought in, went into the dining-room and 
began to pick them preparatory to preserving. 

Her brother had stationed himself at the window, the green- 
ish light fell upon the still heavy, but thickly sprinkled with 
silver, hair. After watching her for some time he broke the 
silence by saying: 

‘‘ Teresa, you have become so taciturn lately that I donT 
even know whether you are aware of the misfortune that 
threatens me at the coal mines. 

“ It is the talk of the town.-’^ 

‘‘ And does it not affect you at all? Are you utterly in- 
different to the weal and woe of the Wolframs, Teresa?^'’ 

“ I have long ceased to be interested in the weal and woe of 
the Wolframs, she replied, without looking up from her em- 
ployment. “You train the one who will have the marring or 
making of it in his hands, according to your own ideas and 
principles, regardless of my advice. I have helped to increase 
the Wolfram wealth with my untiring industry and conscien- 
tious economy, this you will grant. I am glad to see our 
family prosper — but by honorable means only — as our fathers 
prospered before us. You have become a modern money- 
maker. You want to shovel it in by the sackful, and are not 
willing to spend enough to secure the ground under your feet. 
There is where the threatened danger comes in. You are to 
blame for the misfortune you lament. 

“ You donT understand such things!^’ 

“ Possibly not. Consequently, Tis no affair of mine!’^ she 
replied, coolly, but her glance began to wander from her busy 
hands, and she added, quickly, “ But this I do know, that I 
have always wished the coal had lain there undiscovered tiU 
the Day of Judgment. Since those mines have been opened, 
things have changed here sadly. A deep sigh accompanied 
the words. “ Oh, to be sure, the Wolframs have become very 
wealthy, but the riches have flowed in upon us from a source 
that I do not like. I always feel as if blessings could not 
come with it, because a poor human being lost his life there- 
by. 

The senator had been pacing the floor for a moment; at his 
sister's last words he paused, as if some spectral object had 
suddenly risen from the ground in front of him; then he burst 
into a coarse laugh. 


190 


IN' THE SCHILLTNGSCOURT. 


Yon have become logically intellectual with the years — ■ 
like women in their dotage!’^ he exclaimed, scornfully. “ So 
you imagine because a crazy servant, discharged by a bad 
master, liappens to be mixed up in the affair, misfortune clings 
to my undertaking!” Pie laughed in forced merriment, and 
again added: “ Well, if that is the case, I welcome the mis- 
fortune. What big eyes old Klaus Wolfram, our good, hard- 
working forefather, would make if he could see the present 
Wolframs in the glory of possessing the finest estate in the 
country — a great misfortune, truly!” 

lie walked to the window and began to drum upon the 
panes, covertly watching the effect of his words upon his sis- 
ter. She continued composedly picking currants. 

“ You received the ten thousand dollars you had loaned the 
Zeigler estate yesterday; how do you think of investing it?” 
he suddenly inquired. 

“ I have not decided as yet.” 

“ Let me have the money, Teresa? Sommer wise consumed 
all my disposable capital lately; and here this mine calamity 
comes upon me so unexpectedly. I must have ready mone}^ 
and I dislike giving my note of hand. Your money is safe 
with me, Teresa; it is Wolfram money, and might as well con- 
tribute toward the enlargement of the general estate; as you 
have frequently intimated that all your property will some 
time — I hope the day is most remote — revert to the Wolfram 
name-bearer again. ” 

‘‘ I have not made my will yet!” 

A derisive smile distorted his face at these laconic words; he 
scrutinized the flushed face of the speaker. Was this the 
woman whose soul had lain in his keeping all these years? 

“ I am aware of that, Teresa, and I have no intention of 
hurrying you into such an act, although I am not a man to 
procrastinate about any necessary step; a thing that has got 
to be done may as well be' done first as last. However, should 
you be taken away before me, rest assured not one penny of 
your money shall be touched by those upon whom the mother- 
curse rests — I will take care of that. I shall be prepared 
to carry out your wishes and mine; just as I managed your 
matrimonial affairs —that restored you to freedom.” 

Her lips were violently compressed — she uttered no word. 

“ But if we both live to a good old age the world will have 
forgotten that you ever changed your name for that luckless 
one, and you will be remembered only as a daughter of the 
W olframs, and will share the splendor that the Cloister House 
will enjoy in the bright career of its new radiance.” 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSiTOURT. 


191 

That boy yonder?” she motioned toward the yard where 
Guy was playing his pranks. 

“ Yes, that boy, our Guy,” he replied, wrathily, on per- 
ceiving the questionable meaning of her ironical query. 

“ A fine career he promises, with his destructive character.” 

“Nonsense! The tricks of boyhood. lam, I flatter my- 
self, thoroughly a man, and yet I used to break cups and jars 
to my heart’s content, and never got caught at it. I pulled 
out the legs of every beetle and bug I could find, and ate frogs 
while they were still kicking — ” 

“Indeed! This is a phase in your nature I never sus- 
pected,” was the sarcastic interruption. “ The hired girls 
were scolded and dismissed for the broken crockery that our 
mother constantly had to replace — our good mother, who be- 
lieved you to be a ‘ pattern son. ^ Who would have imagined 
you to be such a sly fellow?” 

The senator scowled, and Mrs. Lucianos hand glided into 
her pocket, and her fingers clasped the chain of dandelion 
rings, and she felt as if a magnetic chain had connected her 
heart, that had denied its woman ^s longing tenderness so many, 
many years, with the little hand that had linked the stones. 
That sorely isolated heart was strong in asserting its right now 
in blissful emotion — dear little hands, surely they never tort- 
ured living things — there was no malice and deceit in that 
sweet face any more than in him whom she had cast out from 
heart and home. 

“ Youthful capers, Teresa, such as any spirited lad may be 
capable of. I merely wished to prove to you that such boyish 
and thoughtless tricks must not be taken into consideration 
when judging of the future man. Believe me, Guy will yet be 
a source of joy to you. He will be as a son to you, as he is to 
me.” 

He paused, for his sister threw out her arm as if warding off 
a blow. 

“I have a son!” she shrieked, hoarsely. The struggle in 
her soul had reached a climax. The irresolution that had 
tortured the mother^s heart for years had been decided with 
this cry — four little words: “ I have a son!” Like a phenix 
out of the ashes of anger and resentment glowed the never- 
dying heart of nature, and mother-love triumphed. 

“ You have a son?” queried the senator, with withering 
mockery. “ Pardon me, I had forgotten, or, rather, I was 
ordered to forget, the lamentable fact. There was a time 
when I feared a violent attack if I reminded you of such an 
existence.” His head sunk upon his breast in a thoughtful 


IN THE SCIITLLlNGSCOURt. 


IDS 

way, and lie twisted nervously at his whiskers. I see, Teresa-, 

I see how it is. You are getting old — old, feeble. When peo- 
ple arrive at that stage their character becomes infirm also, and 
they cry ‘ Pater peccavi Well, in that case a body may be 
permitted to speak of the past; or, better still, I will fetch 
you some Berlin newspapers. There you will read about the 
celebrated daughter-in-law of Mrs. Major Lucian. Your son 
is, of course, not mentioned; but don^t be alarmed, for the 
husband of such dramatic celebrities are generally nonentities 
— mere shadows that trail at the heels of the grand ladies be- ' 
cause they can not well get rid of them, and so must endure 
them as hangers-on, and make them useful as door-keepers or ' 
secretaries — surely a position that an ambitious mother may 
well be proud of. He need not work, he can subsist on the 
income of his wife’s ballet prancing. ” 

You don’t believe yourself what you are telling me,” she 
muttered between her set teeth. She had laid aside her work, 
and the quick, painful breathing told of the fearful emotion 
raging in her bosom. “ He has a profession; he is able to 
support himself. ” 

The senator laughed rudely. ‘‘You think he is engaged - 
making money as a lawyer while his wife travels all over i 
Europe as a dancer?” 

A sudden relieving thought illuminated his sister’s face. 

“ Are you certain he is living with her?” 

One moment the man hesitated while gazing studiously out 
of the window. Even a brutal nature may be momentarily 
reluctant to belie the dead. Then he shrugged his shoulders, 
sa3dng: 

“ I must confess I have paid but little attention to a matter 
that I supposed was no concern of ours. It is a delicate sub- 
ject to touch upon, and I have made no particular inquiry in 
regard to the movements of a disgraced and disowned member ,• 

of our family. You speak as if you hoped the marriage with '\ 

that person had been annulled. My dear Teresa, not every * 

human being possesses the sense and resolution to shake off a i 

disagreeable yoke, as you have done.” 

How he tortured her! She pressed her clutched hands to j 

her breast, and turned her gaze slowly upon him. | 

“ I must remind you that you always conducted yourself j 

with masculine energy. You had rather cut a knot a.t one | 

blow than bend under the hateful pressure; but such a knot I 

once cut can not be united again, unless one is willing to draw | 

upon themselves the disdain of God and man — and the present I 

head of the Wolframs will know how to prevent a member of i 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOUET. 


193 


his family from committing themselves. This is the first item 
to be considered. Then I would also remind you of your dis- 
tinct declaration that not a sou of the money accumulated 
through generations of industry should ever be spent by a dis- 
reputable theatrical family. If you have changed your views 
and mind, well and good; but I have not!^^ His hard fist 
came down on the table with a bang. “ I am here to reclaim 
that inheritance for the one who bears the Wolfram name, and 
for all those who shall follow 

‘‘ That is the first item of consideration — the first and only 
one around which all the others revolve she cried^ crushed 
and embittered with the suddenly dawning consciousness of her 
brother’s real character. 

‘‘ Think what you please — I shall do my duty!” was the 
cold reply. “ But I advise you, Teresa, not to oppose me. 
Take heed. You and your dramatic family will get the worst 
of it! I give you fair warning!” 

He walked to the window, and gave some orders to the men 
in tones as composed as it he had just been discussing an or- 
dinary every-day matter. 

His sister went up to her room. 

She was not a woman to be moved from a purpose, or scared 
by threats. She would have laughed in her brother’s face had 
she not been so utterly astonished by the painful discovery of 
his true nature. He had not counseled and stood by her from 
real brotherly and unselfish motives. He had supported her 
actions, and commended her resolutions, and helped to make 
her desolate, not from a sense of justice, but simply to gain 
for his own son her large inheritance. 

Her eyes filled with tears, and a flush of mortification 
covered her face. Where were the iron props that had upheld 
her consciousness of right doing? They were props of prej- 
udice and arrogance that had to disappear before the unseen 
power of external retribution. - She had robbed herself. Her 
own pride and obstinacy had cheated her out of years and 
years, in which she could have been blessed and given blessings. 
These years appeared to her now like some horrible gulf, sun- 
less and blossomless, in which she had willfully wandered, 
shutting her eyes from the heaven she might have enjoyed,, 
and gathering stones — for what were the sums laid up but 
fruitless stones to her? And now they were to be raised as a 
pedestal under the feet of that miserable boy, whose very sight 
repelled her. No, no; it should not be! 

She still saw before her a little season of joy. Only a few 
steps from her there was a sweet human fountain, from which 
7 


194 


IN THE SOIIILLINGSCOUKT. 


she could draw lifo for her souFs hunger. What was to pre- 
vent her from rushing over there into that house, where all 
would be changed? No! she could not humble herself so 
much just yet. She had taken the first step toward reconcilia- 
tion. He would come to his mother, and make atonement less 
hard for her. Where, where was he? 

It was a shameful falsehood. He did not let his wife sup- 
port him. He was no idler; he had made place for himself 
among men, surely — perhaps in some foreign land, she thought 
— her mind reverting to the colored people who had charge of 
the children. She had recognized the little hoy from her win- 
dow in the gable-room, long, long ago. Such feature for feat- 
ure resemblance and expression rarely repeats itself in humanity 
that is not related, and had not her heart gone out to him who 
bore her son^s face and manners? This was blood affinity. 
It was needless for that strange lady in the park to tell her the 
boy^s name was Lucian. But where was his father — ^her own 
boy? 

Ah! perhaps, he had only sent his darlings, hoping they 
would creep into their grandmother^s heart, and then bring 
him messages of her forgiving love. She had called herself 
grandmamma to his boy, and sent a token that he could not 
misunderstand, for he knew how .she valued it. He would 
respond. Yes, he would certainly come, though weeks would 
pass before the distance between them was journeyed over, 
perhaps, and oceans to be crossed, but he would come. She 
would curb her intolerable yearning, and then — Was there 
still an unyielding nerve in this woman's nature? 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A WEEK had passed since Baron Schilling's return from 
Berlin. The parterre wing of the Column House had bright- 
ened up considerably since the depressing demon of sickness 
had fled from it. Jose had enjoyed the open air several times, 
and all the rest he required during the day now was taken in 
his rolling chair. He was gaining strength rapidly — ^began to 
take an interest in his toy regiment, and his faithful playmate 
Pirate had been permitted to pay his compliments in short 
visits. 

Jose used the cup grandmamma " had given him most 
religiously. With the appearance of this costly present at 
Schillingscourt began a season of anxious, almost solemn ex- 
pectancy, for those who were aware of the secret of the chil- 
dren's relationship. Mercedes had just left her rooms to join 


m THE SCHILLIHGSCOURT. 195 

V, 

Jose when she caught a glance of the' vanishing figure of the 
cup-bringer, and the baron stepped out of the atelier at the 
same time. Thus they had the startling incident from Jose’s 
lip together. 

The baron had become pale, and for an instant bent low 
over the delighted boy. Then he looked up and quietly re- 
marked to Mercedes: 

“ The last act is drawing near. You will be released from 
your self-sacrificing situation sooner than we believed and 
hoped. ” 

They concluded to remain quiescent and await further action 
on the part of the grandmother, as she was evidently moving 
without the knowledge of her brother, and any sign on their 
part might disarrange her plans. 

Since that day Mercedes nad not spoken with her host. She 
avoided him with a feeling of inexplicable fright, that caused 
her to tremble whenever she saw him at a distance, or fancied 
his eyes were upon her. She had been accustomed to ignore 
people whom she did not like, and she had frequently been 
told that even her snubbing ” was done gracefully; but she 
was also angry with this plain-speaking German baron, because 
she could not conquer him with her disdain, and because she 
was forced to respect him against her will; and she avoided 
him for fear that she would call upon herself a second humilia- 
tion. 

He never approached the Column House on foot or on 
horseback; he always used the back portal in coming and go- 
ing from his studio to the city. He kept his word. Made- 
moiselle von Reidt was still a visitor at the house. She held 
the Mns of the establishment and nursed the baroness, for that 
lady was ill. A messenger was sent in haste for the physician 
sometimes more than once a day, and he, .generally came in 
anything but a hurry; and then his voice could be heard scold- 
ing the sufferer, whose cries and groans resounded through the 
house. Sometimes he was sent as a mediator to the baron, for 
he frequently marched with a twinkle in his eye to the atelier; 
but invariably returned as he had gone — alone — to the great 
amusement of the servants, who were not blind to the reasons 
for the “ gracious mistress’s fearful attacks.” . 

In the meantime a letter had also been received from Lu- 
cille, filled with grossest impertinence for Mercedes, and de- 
manding her daughter be delivered up to her at once. A reply 
was sent, saying the child would remain in the care of those 
who were authorized to protect her, though they should be 
forced to appeal to the law« 


196 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


. The pretty little thing who was the subject of this threatened 
contest romped merrily about the place, asking sometimes for 

mamma/ ^ but quite contented with the affectionate care 
that drove away all longing for the little lady, who nearly 
smothered her children with caresses one moment, and scolded 
them the next — according to the variations of her humor. 

Deborah guarded her pet day and night with untiring devo- 
tion. Thus she sat to-day with her knitting in hand, while 
Pauly played with her dolls and baby carriage near by under 
the shade trees in the garden. It was a gloriously bright 
morning. Pirate, who usually barked at all passers-by from 
the garden, had been admitted to the Column House to visit 
Jose. Everything was quiet about the atelier. The baron 
had gone away on horseback, and the lonely silence was only 
broken by the warbling of the birds, and the whispering of the 
leaves — an occasional vehicle rolled by, and carriage wheels 
appeared to halt on the other side of the wall. But Deborah 
took notice only of her knitting just then; she had dropped 
some stitches, and was bending with a provoked and perspiring 
face over her needles, and did not hear the portal softly open, 
and a figure in water-proof wrapping slip into the garden, fol- 
lowed by an elegantly dressed lady. In the gate-way stood a 
tall stylishly got-up young gentleman who glanced curiously 
about. 

The first figure flew across the garden noiselessly until she 
stood at Pauly’s side, lifted the little one in her arms with a 
whisper that caused the child to exclaim joyously as she clasped 
the woman^’s neck — “Yes, Minna — wefil go to mamma — 
and before the babels mouth could be closed Deborah had 
jumped up with a wild scream, and running after the woman 
and Pauly — who was making for the gate with all speed — 
called out in shrill tones: 

“Jack! help! help! They are running away with Pauly!” 

Then she felt herself held in a masculine clasp, and a pair 
of sharply clutching hands caught her by the neck and held ? 
scented handkerchief over her mouth. 

“ Will you shut up, you foolish thing?” Lucille hissed. 
“ Do you think, you people at Schillingscourt, that I am go- 
ing to wait in lamb-like patience for the law to decide whether 
my child belongs to me or not?” 

Minna had reached the portal with Pauly. Lucille released 
the woman and ran after her, followed by the gentleman — ^but 
it was not Deborah’s penetrating cry that rang upon the air 
now— this time it came from the street. Between the portal 
and the carriage standing there, rose as if out of the earth a 


IK THT5 SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 19? 

woman, a large figure, with ashen face and compressed lips— 
her hair still waved, and her garments still moved from rapid 
motion. With a strong grasp she lifted the child from Minna^s 
arms, and held it high over the head of the frightened creature. 
The sight caused Lucille to utter a shriek of dismay. 

‘‘ Stealing children in broad daylight the woman ex- 
claimed, in her full deep voice, pushing aside the would-he 
thief, and placing the screaming child in Deborah’s arms, and 
barring the portal with her large figure as she turned again to 
face the party on the pavement. It was in the dreary hall of 
the Cloister House where these two women had met once be-, 
fore — the one sylph-like, and rustling in elegant attire, with 
her veil drawn closely over her face, while rich Jewels sparkled 
upon her person in the dim light — the other, majestic not- 
withstanding the kitchen-apron, as she stood there, crowned 
with her own hair diadem, the language of a curse upon her 
lips. This time the little lady tore off her veil, her eyes glit- 
tered wrathily and her little foot stamped furiously upon the 
ground as she struggled vainly to press past the strong figure 
in the gate- way, crying as she clawed, at it: 

“ Move aside, madame, this minute!” 

“Do not touch me! Let me advise you,” Mrs. Lucian, 
senior, coldly remarked, gazing scornfully at the gesticulating 
hands of the little creature. 

“ Ah! you would lay your big coarse hands upon me?” was 
the mocking retort. “ I am not afraid of you, as you well 
know; and these same fingers that you do not consider worthy 
to touch your most sacred person have snapped contempt at 
you once before in a way that you will not be likely to forget 
in a life-time!” 

“You appear to have little cause to triumph. My predic- 
tions have evidently been fulfilled. ” The speaker looked 
meaningly at the- prim ^oung gentleman who stood at the 
carriage-door glaring at the lady in the gate-way as if he would 
like to devour her piecemeal for daring to interfere with the 
little lady’s plans. 

Lucille followed her glance disdainfully. 

“ Bah!” she snapped, “ that’s only my secretary,” and 
again she made an attempt to pass into the garden. 

Deborah’s continued call for help had not as yet reached the 
house, it seemed, as no one responded, and she feared the child 
might still be claimed by the mother. 

“ Good gracious, Forster! don’t stand there like a «tickl 
Allons — we must get in!” Lucille exclaimed. 

At this the gentleman sprung to her assistance. 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


m 

‘‘ Madame—^’ 

Lucian is my name, if you please; but you caii not enter 
this garden, was the firm response, as she brushed Lucille’s 
hand from her arm as if it were an insect. 

The little lady retreated, laughing wildly. Oh, yes, 
Forster, be overwhelmed with respect — this lady with a 
kitchen-apron on, who has planted herself in the portal, like 
the angel with the flaming sword at the gates of Paradise, is, 
indeed, Madame Lucian, the divorced wife of Major Lucian— 
the woman who deals in butter and milk on the Cloister estate, 
and who sent husband and son adrift from sheer meanness!” 

Once more she approached the major’s wife, saying, “ Fi 
done, madame, this is the second time you are guilty of a most 
infamous atrocity! But I am not surprised — what else can be 
expected of a woman with such a pitiful disposition — it is but 
natural you should prevent a mother from obtaining just pos- 
session of her child.” 

If your claims are just why resort to this questionable 
manner of obtaining possession?” 

At this moment the sound of many feet running over the 
gravel walks in the garden proved that Deborah’s alarm had 
been heard, and Lucille sprung toward the carriage, and stand- 
ing on the step ready to enter, she turned and made an inimita- 
bly ridiculous courtesy and cried, mockingly: “ Thanks, dear 
mother-in law, for your meddling — ^u win to-day, but it will 
be my turn to laugh next time. Farewell, highly esteemed 
lady, until then. ” 

The next moment the chagrined party were rolling away to 
the order of her high-pitchS. voice that commanded, “ For- 
ward!” 

Mrs. Lucian maintained her position in the gate-way as if it 
required guarding until the very sound of the carriage wheels 
died out in the distance, then she faced the garden where 
Pauly was still crying in Deborah’s arms for mamma ” and 
the big, big dolly she had promised the little one. 

The servants that had gathered about the colored woman 
listened in surprise to her story of Pauly’s abduction — they 
thought it rather singular that the mother should be obliged 
to ‘'steal ’’her own child. This caused Deborah to forget 
prudence and silence, and Jack as well, when he arrived and 
learned what had taken place. 

“ That is a trick of the canaille,” he exclaimed; ‘‘ she 
always used that portal before she went away, in going and 
coming from town. She knew little Pauly generally payed 


m THE SCHILLTNGSCOURT. 


199 

about the garden there mornings, with no one to guai*d her 
but Deborah. 

Donna Mercedes came flitting across the lawn, and Deborah 
hastened to meet her with the child. The great glowing, 
questioning eyes caused the negress to tremble as she related, 
and the face of her mistress grew pale and threatening as she 
listened; and when Deborah called her attention to the lady 
standing in the gate-way, Mercedes took Pauly from her, 

E laced her on the ground, and led her toward the woman who 
ad prevented the abduction. 

This time she did not retreat, rather advanced a step, and 
Mercedes was impressed with her queenly bearing, notwith- 
standing the large kitchen-apron that still encircled her per- 
son, and was utterly forgotten in the excitement of the mo- 
ment. Her cheeks were flushed, but her voice was hard and 
brusque as she remarked: 

If the child has been intrusted to your care, miss, you will 
have to guard it better — help may not always be at hand.^^ 

A perfidious trick of this kind was not anticipated. I 
guard the children as precious treasures, Mercedes replied, 
with emotion. 

“ Are you the governess Mrs. Lucian queried, somewhat 
doubtful, while scrutinizing the lady closely. 

An ironical smile curved Mercedeses lips for an instant. 

Ho. I am their aunt.^^ 

Mrs. Lucian retreated involuntarily. 

“Ah, indeed! also a Fournier she said, contemptuously, 
and her eyes rested on the elegant lace-trimmed white morn- 
ing wrapper, as if implying that that was also part and parcel 
of “ Fournier ^s stage truck. 

“Your pardon, madame.e^ Mercedes hastily repudiated 
the relationship. “ I do not belong to that family in any 
manner whatever. I am Mrs. de Valmaseda.-’^ 

Intuitively she withheld the fact of herr elationship to Felix, 
in her present excitement. Such an idea seemed also foreign 
to the first Mrs. Lucian, who appeared eager for some infor- 
mation connected with the little lady who had just gone, and 
her lips barely formed the words of inquiry. 

“ And — the person in the carriage — 

“ You mean Lucille Lucian, formerly Fournier Mercedes 
interposed. 

The woman^s eyes lighted angrily. It was evident that the 
hatred for this being, who had taken her son away on that 
eventful evening, had not grown less, but she composed hep 
self and said, forcibly: 


m 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


“ I wanted to ask whether she lives separated from her hus^ 
band/^ 

Mercedes felt the blood recede to her heart. She shuddered. 
This mother overwhelmed with love and longing, struggling 
with remorse and regret that had not the faintest premonition 
that it was too late to atone — that she had no son to whom she 
could hold out her yearning arms and say: come, come back 
to your mother! She had asked the question harshly. She 
was still in the clutches of an obstinate disposition; but the 
blissful hope of her soul beamed in the stern face; it would 
not be suppressed. She trusted to have her son once more. 
She hoped the hatred connection had been severed. 

‘‘Well — why do you not answer me?^' She drew so close 
to Mercedes as she spoke that she fancied she could hear that 
mother-heart beating stormily. “Did you not hear me? I 
asked whether he had separated himself from that flippant 
creature. 

“ Yes;"^^ — Mercedes felt unutterable compassion for the 
woman, she hesitated in speaking the words — but they struck 
with fullest meaning when she added: “ But not as you im- 
agine. 

A deathly pallor fell upon the eager woman, the strongly 
arched brows met in a deep furrow above the horror-expanded 
eyes. 

Mercedes took her hands and drew them toward her, and 
sought her glance with a pitiful, tear-dimmed face, saying: 

“ Do you think Felix would have sent his children hither 
alone — that he would not have rushed to the dearly loved 
mother the moment she sent him that pardoning sign by his 
boy?” 

“Dead!^^ groaned the w^oman; the next instant her hands 
were wrenched away, and she fell to the earth like a tree that 
has been felled by the last blow of an ax. The servants had 
dispersed when Mercedes arrived, and only Deborah remained. 
She hurried to assist Mercedes in lifting the prostrate woman, 
but she had not lost consciousness. The blow, the horror of 
the unexpected blow, had for the moment bereft her of 
strength. 

She rose, and stared with tearless eyes into space. There 
lay shattered all the hard, soulless Wolfram tenets, the selfish 
elements that had been built upon their conceited infallibility, 
and there also lay the new-born, blissful hopes that had strug- 
gled to existence out of so many years of suppressed longing. 

“ I never want to see you again — not even after death 
Those were the parting words she had said to her son, and 


IN THE SOHILLINGSCOURT. 


201 


HOW — now she would have removed the cold earth that covered 
him with Her hands, and crept close to him, for one more look 
at the son she had trained to manhood without exhibiting any 
of the unfathomable mother-love buried deep down in her 
heart. She would like to have poured out upon his ^rave the 
treasures of that love, and caress the earth with the kisses that 
he had not received in his life-time — because she wanted to re- 
main faithful to Wolfram principles. 

Was she not herself to blame because his young, enthusiastic 
nature, that had been so cruelly denied its natural affection, 
had gone out to the first tender, loving heart he had found? 
She rose from the earth where the severe hand of retribution 
had hurled her, and gazed around as if she had lost her way. 
It was not herself clinging to the trunk of a tree, at hand, for 
support. There was no blood in her veins, no heart in her 
bosom. For what purpose a heart — now? Had she not even 
denied herself to him in heaven? 

Mercedes lifted little Pauly and placed her in the unhappy 
woman^s arms, saying to the child: 

“ Love grandmamma, dear. 

Pauly had seemed a little afraid of the large woman who 
had suddenly fallen to the ground, but the w'ord “ grand- 
mamma appeared to have a charm for her, for she wound 
her little arms around the woman’s neck, and pressed her soft 
face close to the pale cheek in a caressing way. 

“ The children are his legacy to you,” Mercedes said, with 
deep emotion, as the woman clasped the child stormily to her 
breast, and the wild, tortured eyes overflowed , in a passion of 
pent-up tears. ‘‘ He bade me take his darlings to you, and ask 
you to protect — to be father and mother to the orphans.” 

The mother’s intense grief was too strong for language; she 
merely held the son’s ‘‘ legacy ” mutely to her heart. 

Come to the house witli me, I have so much to tell you,’^ 
Mercedes added again, taking her hand. 

Yes, take me to his boy.” 

In silence they w^alked toward the Column House, followed 
by Deborah. 

‘‘Oh, papa, papa! look over there! Aunt Teresa is in 
Schillingscourt!” screamed Guy, from his perch of observa- 
tion in the pear-tree. 

A head became visible above the hedge, and a burst of 
coarse laughter resounded with the words. 

“ lYhat, Teresa! you over there? Have you lost all your 
dignity and honor? In the name of our honorable parents, 
come back here to me! fShame upon you, and the curse of 


202 


m THE SCHILLIHGSCOURT. 


our family rest upon you if you do not at once return to the 
Cloister estate 

Away!^^ was the response, as his sister flung out her arm 
as if clearing the mist, and cutting a passage-way that shut him 
out forever. She did not even look in his direction, she M 
not notice that he disappeared behind the hedge, and ran like 
a madman to the house, nor cared for the mocking voice of 
the boy in the pear-tree, who shrieked over that she had left 
the gate open, and some one had stolen the bleaching linen 
from the grass. 

’ The boy had evidently watched her, and informed his father 
of her movements. 

Regardless of all this, with the little girl pressed closely to 
her breast, she followed Mercedes up the steps to the Column 
House. The same steps she had trodden for the last time 
thirty-four years ago as a bride. It did indeed seem as if she 
were walking over glowing iron; and when the great vestibule 
door opened into the well-remembered hall with its statuary 
and old-time recollection, she seemed rooted to the spot, and a 
sensation came over her as if she had left her body and merel} 
her spirit were roaming among those memorable scenes. 

Over these marble floors her white bridal-dress had trailed — 

a grandly beautiful woman — a pure, proud, queen-lily had 
become his own had whispered to her, on that spot near 

yon Ariadne; but the proud lily had chilled him with her 
stately coldness, because he would not become a slave to the 
imperious wishes of a woman who was so utterly difl^erent from 
himself. Then she became a mother — a proud one — but one 
determined to mold the precious treasure of a child^s soul into 
the foreign nature of a Wolfram. But the usurped souls had 
escaped her, and she had turned away from them in wrath, and 
wandered alone into the desolate wilderness. The Wolfram 
mold had crumbled before her eyes. Her brother, the false 
star and evil genius sha had followed blindly, h^ himself 
crushed it, for the sake of his son— and such a son! 

Deborah opened wide the door leading into the great room — • 
her mistresses apartment. Pirate, the big dog, stretched on 
the carpet beside his little master’s rolling-chair, sprung up 
with furious barking at the stranger lady; but Jos6 held out 
his arms in delighted recognition, while Mercedes quieted 
Pirate, and Jose scolded mildly at him, and laughingly said: 
‘‘Ain’t you ashamed of yourself, to bark like that at my 
grandmamma?” 

His soft tones were the same that had sounded so ill to the 
ears of the rough man in the Cloister House. Ah! was she 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. ^03 

deserving of tliis pay — to have such a treasure placed in her 
keeping once more — was there yet time to turn from the past, 
and lavish upon the children of her son the fullness of all that 
had been denied him? She would care for them as the apple 
of her eye — these messengers of his unchanging love — even 
now with tears streaming from her eyes, she was being re- 
freshed in the possession of their affection — in looking at their 
sweet young beauty and gentleness. Here was her place — she 
would return to the Cloister House once more, only to settle 
up her affairs there, and then never more go back to its love- 
less gloom. As yet she had asked no question; the distance 
was great, through shrub and over lawns, from the little 
portal to the Column House; and she placed Pauly upon the 
floor, and sunk exhausted upon a divan in Mercedes’s favorite 
retreat in the window embrasure. 

‘‘ How speak!” she murmured, folding her hands and press- 
ing them over her eyes. 

Mercedes stood directly opposite, before the escritoire, above 
which were grouped the family pictures. Her heart beat with 
tender sympathy for the woman, who, when she took her 
hands from before her eyes, would see before her the portrait 
of the man she had called husband. It occurred that instant; 
a cry escaped her lips; she started up only to sink back again, 
and closed out the sight with her hand once more. Was he 
not long since dead to her — bu ried in a closely sealed corner of 
her heart? Yet there he was looking at her with his merry 
blue eyes, his handsome bearded face, with its sparkling in- 
telligence and humor of the past. It had stolen upon her 
dreams in the years gone by, she had fled from it, and grasped 
the first implement of labor at hand in garden or kitchen, and 
thus found forgetfulness! But here he was in all his manly 
perfection, and at his side a lovely woman. 

A light seemed to break upon her. 

“ Is that the woman’s proper place? Who are you?” she 
asked. 

“ I am Mercedes Lucian — Major Lucian’s daughter by a 
second wife.” 

The truth had to be spoken, though it was like a dagger 
thrust in a suffering heart. 

Then Mercedes related all there was to be told from the 
time Felix was received with open arms by his father, followed 
by the American civil war, wherein both father and son per- 
ched, up to the present hour. 

It was a bitter, bitter cup, drained drop by drop to the 
very dregs; and the haughty head bent lower and lower until 


m THE SCHILLlHGSCOtJRT. 


m 

her face was bowed upon the desk and rested there as if all 
life had gone out of it. She did not lift it when sounds oi 
confusion penetrated the house from the street, and Hanna 
came in excitedly relating that there were rumors of a calamity 
at the mines, and women were running thither in^ terror to 
look after the welfare of their husbands. The mines were 
flooded and ruined. 

Mercedes laid her hand upon the bowed head, but the 
woman ^s voice was almost threatening, as she exclaimed: 

Let me alone! What is it to me? The man has more 
than enough. The words were nearly the same used by her 
son once, and she became so indignant! He can stand the 
loss. What is such a wreck to the wreck of my lost years — 
the pain and sorrow I endure? Oh! will you not continue? 
You said my son, my poor son, received a shot in his breast 
while standing upon the threshold defending his home?^^ 

“Yes, Jack rescued him, and carried him upon his back 
into a thicket of woods, Mercedes related, and how, with the 
aid of the faithful negro, they had made their way to her 
estate, Zamora, that the w^ounded man might breathe his last 
surrounded by his idolized family. She described how Felix 
longed td see his mother, and how fervently he hoped she 
would become reconciled and accept the trust, and be a pro- 
tector to his little ones. 

In the meantime the confusion upon the street had in- 
creased. Hanna, at Mercedeses request, remained in the room 
with the children. She crouched near Josh’s chair and glow- 
ered at the woman in the window embrasure. 

She remembered how unbending that haughty head had 
turned upon her father — ^poor, lamenting Adam — when he 
stood pleading for justice in the door-way of the Cloister 
House kitchen. Those hard-hearted people were being pun- 
ished for their avarice. The wrong done her father was 
coming home to them — through that coal mine for which her 
father had been driven to his death. The wicked senator was 
having his gold washed away, and that cruel woman yonder 
was wailing for the death of her son. 

Suddenly the girFs fiery eyes wandered from the stricken 
form to the carved panel behind the green cushioned sofa. She 
stole on tiptoe toward it, with glaring eyes. Lazy Pirate also 
lifted his head and growled as he pricked up his ears. 

‘‘ Unfortunately, I can not give you the letter written by 
Felix, Mercedes continued, unheeding Hannahs movements. 
‘‘ The casket containing it and other valuable documents has 
strangely disappeared. 


IK THE SCHILLIKQSCOURT. 


205 

Mrs. Lucian slowly lifted her head to meet the deeply sym- 
pathizing eyes of the speaker. 

“ Jose/^ wliispered Hanna, with an insane light and glow 
upon her face, “ do you see the little clouds of dust coming in 
there? do you hear that knocking and crackling? Listen — do 
you hear it? You think that is some one scratching on the 
wood-work, don^t you? but it ig not! It is nothing but mice — 
mice — that’s what they all 8^^” 

She glided nearer and nearer to the wall, and Pirate rose, 
and placed himself in attitude ready for a spring. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

The work at the mines went steadily on, although pre- 
monitory symptoms,, of a possible catastrophe made them- 
selves very evident. The senator and some of his friends 
lightly remarked that the ‘‘ Old fellow down below was in 
such a hurry with his tricks!” — that were to be warded off by 
the clever men who were hourly expected to examine the 
nature of the constant water accumulation, and suggest a 
remedy to prevent an inundation. 

It was the noon hour, and the miners’ wives were on their 
way to the mines with their husbands’ dinners, when they 
suddenly felt the valley quake beneath their feet, followed 
immediately by exclamations of horror from the direction of 
the mines. A few of the laborers had managed to escape, and 
they, reported that an inundation of sudden and frightful force 
had taken place, and submerged the coal-pits and all therein. 

The inspector, and such help as was at hand, did all that 
human power could to rescue the unfortunates; and the lamen- 
tations of the women resounded through the streets as they ran 
toward the Cloister estate, and a perfect mob gathered about 
the doors of the house in a short time, and the old halls re- 
echoed cries and threats. The maids and field-hands rushed 
into the house to bolt and bar the doors. They expected the 
enraged multitude would lay violent hands upon the master, 
whose meanness brought about this calamity. But the people 
beat upon the doors with loud curses until a bolt was drawn 
and the senator appeared, and with pale, anxious face de- 
manded to know what this uproar meant. He got his reply 
from dozens of hoarse throats, and for once in his life the self- 
contained, stern man trembled. He rushed away to the mines, 
followed by the crowd and all his own people. Master Guy in 
the meantime was sliding down from his perch, and strove to 
drag the bleaching linen behind some bushes, after he had 


206 


m THE SCHILLIHGSCOURT. 


/ 


/ 


hastily barred the gate, so that “ Aunt Teresa would have to 
go around by the front way, with her kitchen apron on, when 
Sie came back. She had no business to go over to those peor 
pie he and his papa detested. 

But the linen was too heavy for him to hide, and so scaix) 
the life nearly out of his aunt in the belief it had been stolen, 
as he had falsely stated. So he gobbled up pear after pear 
lying in the grass, and, taking a bite out of each, threw it 
down again — that would provoke her anyhow. 

But why was everything so quiet, he began to wonder. It 
was certainly dinner-time, and he had ^ot been sent for as 
usual. He ran into the barn- yard and peeped into the stables 
and into the servants’ quarters. The doors all stood carelessly 
ajar and no signs of the dinner that was ever ready upon the 
table for the field-hands at the striking of twelve. The kitchen 
in the house was also deserted. The soup in the kettle on the 
hearth had boiled down, and the smell of burning roasts came 
from the ovens. Guy chuckled gleefully as he piled the stove 
full of dried wood. Everything should be burned to a crisp. 
Those stupid women had no right to be away from their duties, 
and likely stood gossiping somewhere and neglecting their 
work, just because Aunt Teresa happened to be ofi guard for 
a moment. He would go and tell his papa how villainously 
everybody was behaving. 

Guy knocked at his papa’s room door. The senator had 
made it a rule not to be intruded upon unceremoniously, 
lately not even by his boy; but there was no response, so Guy 
tried, and found the door unlocked. The room was empty. 
This was a delightful discovery for the young heir. He did 
love to “ swoop ” among his papa’s things and go up on the 
gallery and play preacher, and roar and gesticulate as if the 
auditorium were packed with a highly charmed assembly, and 
sometimes he had a chance to slip into the great closet where 
the organ remains and the gilded wooden angels were stored. 

He bounded up the stairs. At the head he came to a sudden 
halt, and his intelligent eyes gleamed like those of a fox come 
upon an unexpected prey. Here he found that the panel had 
again parted arm and body of the saint. The merciless gap 
that bereft the kneeling woman of a blessing hand piously held 
above her head, was nat quite as large as on a former occasion, 
but it was large enough to give the curious boy a chance to see 
if there was anything behind the panel. He noticed a bit of 
wood had somehow got crowded between the panel and the 
floor, and this had prevented the crack from closing up. Ah, 
ha’ Master Guv had indeed made a discovery, Hls p^a ha^ 


IN THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


207 


tried to make him believe the panel had opened by accident. 
He had examined the place where the open space had been 
and could find no trace of a crack; nor had it been glued, for 
there had been no carpenter in the house to mend it. This 
Master Guy knew. So he pressed his fingers into the open 
space now, and lo! the panel moved further apart easily and 
noiselessly. Guy was just a little startled, but he knew no 
fear; there was not a dark corner in the whole place he was 
not familiar with, and frequently hid in some one of them in 
time to bound out upon some unsuspecting passer-by for the 
purpose of enjoying the fright he had given them. But the 
gap led into a black gulf that seemed to have no end. Curi- 
osity triumphed, however, and the light fell into the passage 
from the room upon some new boards. This was the partition 
that formed the closet where the organ had been. Nonsense! 
What was there here to be afraid of! But what in the world 
did his papa keep in there, any way? 

He passed in, with his hand resting on the board partition; 
then he gained confidence, and directly came to a couple of 
steps that he fearlessly mounted, and followed the passage 
until he stumbled against something pliable, that moved noise- 
lessly, like a cushioned door, at his touch; and Guy heard a 
woman^’s voice distinctly, as if she were relating a story or 
reading about battle-fields and desolated homes, and about 
some one who lay dying and longed so to see his mother. Guy 
did not care greatly about pathetic stories — ^he never had pk- 
tience with nurses and servants who harped upon goody-goody 
stories or fairy tales — and he became impatient now, listening 
to this woman^s voice, and wondered how this stranger got 
into the Cloister House, and where could she be. His face 
grew wickedly angry at the thought of the intruder, and he 
passed nearer to the sound; suddenly his hands touched wood, 
and his fingers rested directly upon a bolt. He had her now, 
and such a scare as he would give her! 

He pulled the bolt back, and opened the door like a flash, 
and found himself before the most wonderful lattice, or net- 
work of wood, and beyond a most beautifully furnished room. 
All this came upon him like lightning; but just before him 
stood a girl with wildly expanded eyes, and at her side a mon- 
ster dog, ready for a spring. He endeavored to retreat, but a 
shriek from the girl was followed by a crash. The dog had 
leaped at the frail wood-work, and torn it like so much lace, 
sending the splinters flying in a thousand directions. The boy 
fled in speechless terror, stumbled against the partly cushioned 
door near the two stone steps, fell, and, in falling, turned 


208 


IN THE SCHILLIJ^GSCOURT. 


over and rolled into the gallery and down the stairs upon the 
floor of the senator's room, the dog after him, who now stood 
over his prostrate body, as if he would tear it limb from limb.^- 

‘‘ This is the mouse passage!^'’ Hanna shouted triumphant-^ 
ly. “ Oh, God of mercy be thanked! My poor, dear father's 
innocence is proven! The spy was in the Cloister House !'^ 

She hastened through the passage and pulled Pirate away 
from the boy; but Guy did not move. His face was fearfully 
distorted, and he foamed at the mouth. Guy lay in spasms 
that were real. 

The ladies, so deeply absorbed, did not notice Hannahs 
singular actions, until startled by her cry and the crashing of 
the panel, through which, they say. Pirate disappeared. 

Mercedes was too amazed to move, and only stared; while 
Mrs. Lucian Jumped up with comprehensive agitation. She 
realized the shameful force ^of the girPs exclamation: ‘‘The 
spy was in the Cloister House. 

“ Great God!'' she stammered, lifting her hands to Heaven, 
as if there alone help could be found to obliterate this disgrace. 

Yes, this passage led to the senator's private room; directly 
opposite the door opening upon the gallery hung the portrait 
, of their brave father, Klaus, the best and noblest of all the 
Wolframs; his honest eyes were gazing into the dark passage 
where so much treachery had been enacted, and in which a 
member of his house had vilely played the. spy upon an inno- 
cent neighbor. Kot one of the race had ever dreamed of a 
secret passage between the buildings, until the present Wolf- 
ram, with his sly, treacherous character, had found one, and 
basely made use of it for disreputable eavesdropping. 

Mrs. Lucian had as yet no conception of the extent of the 
catastrophe, but she saw that Guy had evidently spied upon 
his father in some way, and also found the passage. There he 
lay at the foot of the stairs, Hanna holding off the dog — 
Hanna, the daughter of the man who had once stood upon the 
threshold of the door not far away and begged for redress in 
vain, and in consequence of his dishonor sought relief in death. 

“ The boy is sick," Hanna remarked, ordering Pirate back 
to his own department. Somewhat humbled, the dog trotted 
up the steps and back to his little master's side again. 

An indescribable struggle was going on in the soul of Mrs. 
Lucian. That brother who had dishonored their name in this 
foul manner vras dead to her. jS/ie could do nothing in com- 
mon between them now; he did not deserve a word from her in 
his defense. But he, the honest father who had gone to his 
eternal rest after working a lifetime to add luster, bom of 


m THE SCHiLLIHGSCOtJRT. 


m 


honest industry, to the Wolfram name — ^he had a right to ex- 
pect that his daughter should strive to save the name from 
stain. The eyes seem to appeal to her and say: “ Save the 
reputation that has been built upon generations of honorable, 
actions, the dearest treasures of our life. With hands pressed 
ia spasmodic agony upon her bosom she passed through the 
dark passage, followed by Mercedes, who began to have an 
idea of the cause of the old lady’s distress. 

Silently she lifted the unconscious boy and laid him on the 
sofa, then she went into the kitchen, from whence the smoke 
and smell of burning victuals came. 

Duty had become a stereotyped habit with her, and, not- 
withstanding the distress that bowed her soul so deeply, she 
mechanically removed the pots and kettles and pans with their 
destroyed contents from the stove and ovens, opened the win- 
dows, and then only hurried to the gate, where some of the 
maids were standing discussing the calamity of the mines, and 
sent a messenger after the physician. 

Mercedes remained at the side of the lad, who continued in 
violent spasms. She presented a contrast, with her elegant and 
stylish presence, to the old-fashioned surroundings with their 
ancient peculiarj.ties. She felt as if she had suddenly been 
carried back several centuries with the spirit of story of old. 

Mrs. Lucian came in again, and with her glance resting on 
the portrait of Klaus Wolfram, she curtly said to Hanna: 

‘‘ Do you intend to make use of this discovery?” 

The girTs eyes lighted up wildly. 

“To be sure I shall, Mrs. Luican! How could I hope for 
the light of the sun to shine for me again were I to remain 
silent? Though you offered me every dollar you owned, to 
buy my silence, you could not tempt me. Why, I would 
cheerfully beg from house to house, if only for the pleasure of 
telling people that my dear good father died innocent! He 
did not betray his master. Thank God! Thank God!” 

The girl folded her hands fervently upon her breast with 
the last words. 

“You are right, girl — and I have done my duty.” Mrs. 
Lucian turned from the old portrait and went up the steps 
into the dark panel opening to examine the interior. Near 
the broken wood- work of Schillingscourt walls she stumbled 
against an object on the floor. She stooped and picked up a 
silver-bound and jewel-inlaid casket, and returned with it to 
the room below. 

Mercedes gazed in astonishment at her fo^ an instant, and 
then, in trembling accents, said; 


^10 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


‘‘ You can read your son^s letter now. It is in your hands. 

‘‘ Oh, I knew the mice from the Cloister House had carried 
it off/^ murmured Hanna, with a bitter smile. “ But it^s no 
business of mine — none at all. 

The box fell from the woman^s hands upon the floor, and 
she bowed her face like one stricken and mute with shame. 

At this moment the doctor was announced, and she collected 
herself and said to Mercedes, in her old hard tones: 

‘‘Go to my grandchildren. I will come presently, when I 
am done here.'’ ■’ 

Hanna picked up the casket, at a motion from Mercedes, 
and followed the lady back through the cushioned passage-way 
into her own room. The doctor found Mrs. Lucian sitting 
composedly beside the sick boy. He began to talk about the 
calamity at the mines, from whence he had been called, but 
she pointed to Guy. He was startled when he saw his patient, 
and made a hasty examination while Mrs. Lucian informed 
liim that the child had fallen down the gallery stairs. 

The doctor pronounced the case “ concussion of the brain, 
and ordered the father to be sent for immediately. 

A “ lucky star had hovered over the house for centuries. 
It brought them health, wealth, and sunshine, respectability 
and eminence; and when the race threatened to become ex- 
tinct, it glowed in the new radiance for their name, and shone 
upon another Wolfram, and at the same time opened also a 
hew fountain of gold that run from the mines into the Wolf- 
ram coffers. And now that star had suddenly gone down, and 
dragged with it wealth and reputation, and threatened to wipe 
out the name as well, and leave it in eternal night. 

In the Cloister House the hopes of the Wolframs hung upon 
a slender thread. But out in the valley an enraged populace 
rose in indignation against the avarice and greed of the hand 
that dived into the very earth to rob it of its treasure for selflsh 
purposes. The Nemesis was closely upon his track, but, in 
punishing the guilty, the many innocent suffered also. 

What human power could do was done for the unfortunates. 
The senator worked harder than all the others; but the people 
thought only of his past selflsh brutality, and the hate that 
had been gathering in their hearts for years now found voioe. 
He had scarcely recognized their polite greetings, or acknowl- 
edged them as fellow-beings, when their hats were lifted to — ^ 
his money and influence. But the sarcastic smile was gone 
from his face now; he realized fully that he was despised, and 
that the name of his honest and industrious ancestry was de* 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOXJRT, 


211 


Spoiled of its respect and inspiring virtue by his own selfish 
greed. 

In the midst of this' troubled consciousness the messenger 
arrived with news of his song’s accident. The ropes he was 
helping to arrange for succor to the still living ones below fell 
from his grasp, and he stood like one entranced with horror; 
then he turned to hasten home. 

^ But the multitude pressed about him, notwithstanding the 
lines that had been placed around the dangerous place by the 
police. 

Hold him!^^ they yelled. “ He wants to run away from 
the horror he has caused!” 

His hat was knocked off, his coat torn, and a dozen rough 
hands laid hold of him; he would have been mobbed had not 
authoritative aid been at hand. In their protection he hurried 
through the valley; covered with dust, excited, without coat 
or hat, he entered the Cloister House. 

What has happened to Guy?” he queried, vexed, yet anx- 
ious. Hot a thought had he that with all his gathering mis- 
fortunes there was such a possibility as the death of his darling 
also looming over him. He was so quiet Just now that at the 
first glance he seemed to be sleeping, and the senator re- 
marked, with infinite relief, but rebuke for the doctor: 

“ He has had one of his usual attacks. ” 

“ An attack that is more serious than it appears,” the doc- 
tor replied, without looking up from the prescription he was 
writing. 

“ How is that?” the father asked, still unconcerned. 

‘‘ He has had a fall — concussion of the brain.” 

Did he fall from the pear-tree?” 

‘‘Ho.” His sister now replied from her position at the 
window to which she had retired when the brother entered. 

He turned quickly and a diabolically victorious smile curved 



deuce, Teresa, you here? What! I fancied some 


hours ago that we had parted forever, your repelling gesture 
was so tragic, and still you have found your way back to the 
Cloister House?” 

“ Yes, an extraordinary way,” she replied, impressively, as 
the doctor left the room; her eyes sought his with such a 
threatening light that he was silenced, thinking that she had 
perhaps not returned in a conciliating spirit after all, but 
simply to take away her belongings. 

“ Extraordinary, no doubt,” he repeated angrily; “but the 
question is whether I am willing to tolerate your return after 


21 ^ IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOtrKf. / J 

such a desertion of my house, hence I say — not hy any mea^isj ^ 
my dearest — we are done with each other, and the way to tj/e 
gable-room is closed to you. Here is the key!^^ He placed 
his hand over his breast-pocket. ‘‘ If you want to know any- 
thing more, go to law about it, there I will answer you!^'’ 

The blood rushed to her head and robbed her of the last 
remnant of patience. 

‘‘Ah, indeed!"^ she exclaimed, fiercely. “You want to 
drive me from the Cloister estate like a beggar! You imagine 
1 have come crawling back for my honest rights? I am here 
simply to ask you how you came in possession of the last letter 
written by my son to his mother.^-’ 

He turned white, but laughed a wicked and forced laugh, 
as he said : 

“A letter from a vagabond! Think you I would soil my 
fingers with such a thing?'’'’ 

She suppressed the cry of motherly love and indignation 
that rose to her lips, and approaching him, she hissed: 

“ Then I am to suppose you stole the casket for its intrinsic 
value ?^^ ^ 

He started back, as if the earth had opened suddenly at his I 
feet. 

She pointed to the gap in the wall on the gallery. | 

“ That is the cause of your son^s fall. He fell down those 
stairs, after following in his father^s footsteps to the very door 
where you once stood and listened, like a ruffian, to the baron ^s 
private affairs. I passed through that passage of shame 
awhile ago with Adames daughter. The girl is mad with tri- 
umph, and could not be induced for a kingdom to remain > 
silent, and to-morrow the whole city will point the finger of 
scorn at the Cloister estate, and every one will be talking about ^ 
the spy — the despicable sneak who steals his neighbor’s 
secrets — ” 

“ Hush! or I will strangle you with my own hands!” he | 
cried, hoarsely, shaking his fist in his sister’s face. “ Think ^ 
you I am to be scared % this concoction of a pack of females? j 
May be you imagine I will take my bundle and my boy and 
run away from a bit of senseless gossip, and leave you and your 
brood in possession here? I know about that hole in the wall, 
but who can prove that I was ever inside of it?” 

With a burst of mocking laughter he cleared the gallery 
stairs, unlocked the closet door where the organ had been, 
reached in and directly the panel gap closed noiselessly and 
securely, then while again locking the closet door he turned his 
face upon his sister with a cunning leer, showing his teeth like 


m THE SCIIILLIKGSCOURT. 


218 


a beast of prey. His movements were as agile, and liis energy 
as unbroken, as his determination was stroDg to face the situ- 
ation with all the intriguing of his nature and juristic knowl- 
edge. 

But his glance fell upon the sofa, attracted by the renewed 
and violent spasms that at this instant again distorted the body 
and features of his son, which was accompanied by a strange 
whistling sound that issued from the boy^s throat with evei-y 
breath. 

‘‘My God, doctor, what is that he exclaimed, rushing 
down the steps in wild alarm, as the physician re-entered the 
room. 

“ I have already told you the attacks were of a serious nat- 
ure, following each other so rapidly.'’^ 

“ You — you do not mean to tell me that my boy is in dan- 
ger!’^ 

The doctor made no reply. 

“ Man, don’t torture me!” he shrieked, clutching the doc- 
tor’s arm like a madman. 

“ I can give you — but little hope.” 

“A lie! You don’t know what .you are talking about! 
You are a bungler, and don’t know anything about the case. 
I must have skillful men here!” 

A moment later half a dozen servants were rushing in vari- 
ous directions to fetch doctors who could save his boy. 

A few hours later, an utterly broken-down man crouched at 
the bedside of a young life rapidly passing away beyond all 
human help. With the last pulse beat of that hfe his own 
would have lost all value. What was he without this one ob- 
ject to strive for — ^this idol for whom he had ignored honor 
and principle in gathering gold to pile under his feet, and lift 
him high up above the common mass, who were to stand and 
worship him from this pedestal, and forget in the glittering 
light of mammon the evil human countenance and lamentable 
soul mounted above them? 

He had succeeded — at the sacrifice of all that makes man 
noble. He stood on the top of the monument — and gazed into 
a grave! Of what avail now the results of his greed?, The 
dust and molder of that darkness could not lighten up with 
gold! 

He had offered the doctors half of his millions for his boy’s 
life. He had beaten his breast and prayed, and cursed God 
in the same breath; but the boy he had once taken to his 
proud heart and wrapped in purple and linen, as became hii 
infant hem, was now passing from life. 


214 IN THE SOHILLINGSCOURT^ 

In the hour of his agony there crowded upon him memories 
connected with the boy’s birth; he saw his wife dying. She 
had done her duty and given him an heir — her death was of 
little moment then. He thought of the grand christening re- 
ception, and the congratulation; he fancied he heard the start- 
ling sound of the organ crashing and tumbling to pieces the 
day after Guy’s birth. 

He buried his face deeper in the bedclothes that covered his 
dying boy; he must shut out these memories, that whispered 
the frightful fact that the dark cleft in the wall up there w^as 
connected with the beginning and the end of Guy’s life. If 
that organ had not fallen to pieces, and the tempting ruins 
had not enticed the child to make toys of the pipes and gilded 
angels, he would be running out under the trees and alive with 
health, and he, the wretched father, would never have discov- 
ered that secret passage that had tempted him to become — a 

spy- 

Curses, curses on the day that dawned for the destruction of 
the last of the Wolframs in this manner; it was all through 
that organ. 

The night came. One doctor after another had taken leave, 
and only the old family physician remained. Mrs. Lucian 
went about, directing the household affairs. How could she 
desert the place while the last of their name lay dying? She 
was bowed with grief, and her heart seemed breaking with the 
burden of sorrow the day had brought her, but she made po 
outward sign. Message after message, fraught with misfort- 
une, came to her house from the mines, but she permitted no 
one to approach her brother, who never moved from the couch 
of his boy, watching in vain for one conscious instant of recog- 
nition. Surely, his punishment was great. 

A silence of death reigned and the night-wind moaned 
drearily in answer to the agonized sighs of the father, and 
moved the papers on the table near the open window as if 
some restless spirit had touched them. 

The clock on the Benedictine church struck eleven. The 
senator started up with a cry. The slender form suddenly 
stretched and extended to its fullest length. The father bent 
his ear closely over his heart — Guy was dead. 

Long the cold form was pressed to the man’s breast, and 
the cold face covered with kisses — then he laid it back upon 
the pillow, closed the glazed eyes, and glided silently fi’om the 
house. 

“ He is probably going to the mines,” the doctor remarked 
to Mrs. Lucian. The two had been watching in the adjoining 


IN’ THE SCHlLLinGSCOUET. 


215 


room. It will divert him somewhat; this is a terrible blow 
for him.^" Then the speaker also left the house, and Mrs. 
Lucian went into the room of death, drew the curtains down 
for a few moments, and remained standing by the corpse of 
her nephew, the boy whose short existence had been fraught 
with nothing but distress for those around him — to destroy and 
give others pain. She pressed her hand to her bosom and said 
to herself that she, too, had been to blame — she, who had also 
so fervently prayed for the continuance of the Wolfram name 
— and how had she not been punished in the realization of her 
prayers! 

She put out the light and locked the door. In the kitchen 
the maids were sitting fast asleep, tired out with waiting and 
watching. She passed out without disturbing them, after tak- 
ing the precaution of turning down the lamp to prevent acci- 
dents. She walked about the garden awliile, then seated her- 
self on the bench near the hedge — for the first time in her 
life she knew not where to place her hand; she had been turned 
out by her brother, and the key to her room, where all her 
worldly possessions were, carried away by him in his pocket. 
She decided to sit there until morning, and then go to Schil- 
lingscourt to her grandchildren. 

The stars shone with siugular brightness above the gables 
and old stone walls of her childhood'^s home, from whence she 
had gone a happy bride — to which she had returned to suffer 
— to suffer! and all through her own fault. And what the day 
with its stormy circumstances had not entirely completed, the 
night — -'the hushed and solemn night perfected. 

Her woman soul that had still something of rebellion in it, 
that glowed with jealousy when informed of her deserted hus- 
band’s new-found happiness, how she for a moment hated the 
daughter of a happier married life, that she had granted the 
man she loved — loved even to-day with a passionate, undying 
love. The night completed the reformation. The jealousy 
and selfishness was all driven out of that suffering, remorseful 
heart. 

The foliowing morning the shocking news was carried 
through the town. Senator Wolfram had perished in the 
mines. He had appeared among the men at work seeking for 
their unfortunate fellow-laborers, and as suddenly vanished in 
the darkness below. The supposition w'as, he had lost his foot- 
hold and gone down — down. 

The excitement was intense. Through his neglect a num- 
ber of men had been hurled into eternity — strong, healthy mei? 
— b.usbands and fathers of families depending upon them for 


216 


IN THE SCHILLINGSC'OUKT. 


protection and support. The indignation against the senator 
was terrible, and the fate that had overtaken him was consid- 
ered a just retribution by the sutferers, and they scarcely sor- 
rowed that he had gone to his death in such a manner on the 
very night his only son had been taken from liim so unexpect- 
edly. But there were a few who hinted at self-destruction. 

The cause of Guy’s death was not known, as yet, abroad. 

There was quite a sensation at Schillingscourt. Hanna had 
informed the baron of what had taken place in Mercedes’s 
apartment, and Mamselle Birkner was overjoyed to announce 
that Adam was entirely exonerated of the charge that had 
driven him insane. Such a gossiping time as there was among 
the superstitious servants. 

Then it was not the ghost of unhappy Adam after all that 
had haunted the big room for years. Nothing but real flesh 
and blood — Angers and feet — and the supposed ghost walked 
the streets as proudly under the name of senator as if he were 
an honest man, and all the rest of them too contemptible to 
notice. 

Surely they had a right to be incensed. And how curious 
they were to get a peep into the room where that splendid 
dog ” had made a passage-way through the panel after the 
ghost. 

But Jack guarded the door like a statue of black marble; 
and his haughty mistress did not go out for her usual walk in 
the garden to-day. Besides the baron had visited the room for 
a moment to look at his destroyed panel — he might return at 
any moment and honor them with one of his black looks for 
their inquisitive curiosity. 

But their amazement knew no bounds when early the next 
morning one of the maids from the Cloister House came to 
Schilhngscourt, and directly returned there with Donna Mer- 
cedes and little Pauly. 

Things had not turned out as Mrs. Lucian expected. She 
had not been permitted to go to her grandchildren for comfort 
and rest. With the flrst pink dawn she had heard the maids 
calling her. A messenger had come with the fearful news. 

It was indeed all, all over with brother and sister. They had 
brought him home, the man who had striven so hard to con- 
quer everyone in attaining his selflsh qnds; who had even made 
compact with an evil genius for the purpose of advancing away 
beyond the slowly, honest endeavors of his forefathers. 

She tottered to the house, and threw wide open the door 
leading into the best room, and motioned mutely for the mas- 
ter to be carried there. With her own hands she laid the body 


m THE SCHlLLIHGSCOtJHT. 


mf 

his son beside him; and then fastened th£ massive silver 
candlesticks in their brackets on the wall. Once more they 
should shed their light upon a Wolfram^ and then never 
more. 

Like one in a dream she moved about; her temples throbbed, 
and her blood ran hot and feverish through her veins; but she 
never paused in her labors until everything was restored to 
order about the house. Then she sent word to Lady Mercedes 
that she could not come to her to-day. She had had to keep 
watch with the dead. 

Then there appeared to rise out of the black gulf, that had 
opened during this eventful night, a sweet and holy Psyche. 
A fair-haired little girl in white, fluttering garments came 
across the dark and somber threshold, led by the hand of Mer- 
cedes. The little creature hid her great frightened eyes in the 
folds of her auntie^s skirts, just as another child, a poor little 
lad in blue, had done upon an eventful occasion, when first en- 
tering the cheerless house. And the woman who had scolded 
the little fellow — ^for to her seeming there could be nothing on 
earth more pleasing and cozy than her old home — now cast her 
eyes around the dark ’^alls with a sensation akin to a feeling 
of repugnance. Everything had changed overnight. With 
the breaking of that man’s influence, the old hawk’s nest ” 
seemed to be falling into decay; the old timbers that held the 
ancient monastery together looked as if they could no longer 
support the crumbling walls — all was dark, ruin, and decay. 

“ My stay here is not for long,” she remarked, brokenly, as 
she lifted the little girl and held her in passionate caressing to 
her heart. “ My duties are almost ended. ” 

Mercedes extended her hand impulsively. She had come in 
the spirit of a daughter to comfort and support, and to reject 
this sympathy, though Mercedes was the child of a ‘‘ second 
choice,” would have been to thrust a dagger into her heart 
anew. She was Felix’s sister, his tender friend and nurse. 
She was the only one who was left who could talk to hereof the 
dead. She would catch a little human sunshine in her old 
days, and step out of the shadows she had drawn around her in 
the cold, dreary past. 

While the storm of destiny had cleared and cleansed the at- 
mosphere of the Cloister estate, its heavy clouds still hung 
threateningly over Schillingscourt. 

The mistress of the Column House was not improving in 
health. The servants also declared that Miss Eiedt, who was 
her never-wearying attendant, had a hard time of it, with the 
none too amiable invalid, though she was a most patient and 


^18 


IK THE ^HlLLIKGSCOUEt. 


uncomplaining nurse, and accepted the lamentations and scold- 
ings of the baroness with the same indifference that she ac- 
cepted her excessive graciousness after a severe attack of tem- 
per. There were times when that repentant lady almost fell 
on her knees before the canoness, but this only happened after 
the reception of letters with peculiar postmarks. 

The baroness had a habit of gliding noiselessly and restlessly 
about the house, but never left it for the park. Only once the 
gardener insisted upon having seen her near the atelier late at 
night, flitting about until Miss Eiedt came upon her, and led 
her back to the house under protest and angry words. 

She wandered up and down under the orange-trees along the 
eastern terrace, constantly, however. From there she had a 
view of the double avenue, and the upper portion of the studio, 
that rose above the boscage. 

She took her meals on the terrace in the company of Miss 
Riedt, and passed most of her time there, sometimes with a 
book, or some needle-work in hand, but, not to read or work, 
but to observe all that passed between the studio and the Col- 
umn House — not a bottle of wine, not a particle of food that 
was carried over the gravel walk to the studio escaped her 
sharp glance, and surely no human being found their way to it 
without her knowledge. Thus she had seen her husband walk- 
ing toward the house, for the first time since her return. Ah! 
he was conquered at last 1 At last he was humbled, and had 
come to her. But the well-known footstep did not resound 
near her door. Only Robert came with refreshments and related 
the exciting events that had taken place in the parterre rooms, 
and that the master had just gone in to see about it. 

Then she had sent repeatedly for him to consult with her 
about repairs, as her interest was also at stake, and he had 
written a polite reply, saying that there would be nothing done 
until after the funeral. 

He did not enter the Column House again, but he was a 
frequent visitor at the Cloister House. An opening had been 
cut through the hedge for convenient intercourse. 

The baroness had witnessed this from her post of observation 
with intense indignation. How dare he disturb or touch stone 
or shrub without her consent? Was not all this her property; 
and here he had the audacity to stand by and see an opening 
made between her aristocratic domains and that low-bred ele- 
ment under the gable roof, inhabited so long by a man who 
had cheated his neighbor in the most dishonorable way! The 
baron must be crazy! She grasped hat and gloves to hasten 
to him to place an energetic veto upon this trespass of her 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUKT. 


m 


rights. But the caupness quietly obstructed her way, saying 
she would not permit her to call down upon herself the ridicule 
of the household by any such foolish step — the baron would 
not hesitate in ordering her from his premises, after what had 
taken place between them on their last meeting at the studio. 
As usual. Miss Riedt carried the day, and the baroness had 
to stand afar off and see Mrs. Lucian come in through the 
hedge- way and enter the Column House. This was intolerable ! 

The invalid’s blood boiled with rage at the discovery thus 
made. Those ‘‘theater people” had succeeded in carrying 
out their plans. A reconciliation had taken place, notwith- 
standing her attempt to thwart it by her pilgrimage to Rome. 
Thej^ had not even missed her; not one letter of appeal for her 
return had she received; while she imagined he was “ pout- 
ing ” with her, and woHd eventually ask her aid for his 
friend’s children. The difficulty had been solved, and no one 
had given her a thought. She could have torn her hair with 
mortification and vexation. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

The senator and his son rested side by side, close to the 
e^arthy bed of “poor Mrs. Senator Wolfram,” and the old 
household and farming duties were resumed with clock-work 
regulation. An extensive establishment like this could not be 
brought to a standstill with one move. Gradually it must be 
unwound, and it required all the native strength of the 
woman’s character to bide patiently until she felt free to lay 
down the burden of care. She no longer stood actively at 
the dairy- table — such things were left to the maids, and all her 
brother’s, as well as her own business affairs, were left to the 
baron’s management. He stood by Mrs. Lucian in her un- 
speakable trouble, like a faithful son. 

They decided to have the secret passage-way walled up. - 

The day after the funeral, the baron brought workmen to 
examine the place. Having notified Mercedes of their arrival, 
he found the room unoccupied, but through the partly open 
door he heard the children at play in the adjoining room. 

“ Those old monks were sly coons,” the men remarked, 
looking with curious admiration at the beautifully carved panel- 
ing, and finding at the back of numerous finely traced vines 
and flowers in the wood-work little sliding panels, covering tiny 
loop holes that gave the observer a full view of the extensive 
room. Every movement and sound had been muffled by the 
leather- cushioned walls and doors. 


m 


IN' THE SCHILLINGSCOUKT. 


While the baron was still engaged with the workmen, the 
corridor door was hastily thrown open and Kobert announced. 

My lady, the baroness!’^ 

My lady stood upon the threshold; she was dressed in 
gray silk. The white lace barbe upon her head, the ends fall- 
ing loosely tied under the chin, made her face appear longer 
and thinner than it really was. Upon her breast rested a heavy 
gold cross. 

Her eyes swept the room at one glance. Her cheeks were 
slightly "flushed, and the usually lusterless gray eyes had a steely 
glitter in them; she wanted to make an impression, that was 
evident. She held her head very high, and her back was as 
erect as if she no longer suffered with ‘‘ spinal weakness. 

“Ah, there you are, my friend!^' she exclaimed, lightly. 
No one would have supposed this was their first meeting since 
the stormy interview in the studio. She returned the respect- 
ful greeting of the workmen with a stiff bow, and extended 
her finger tip gracefully toward her husband. 

The baron received the lady with chilling reserve, and barely 
touched the slender hand. 

“ See there, now,” she remarked, with a wicked smile, in 
the direction of the piano, “ that is the monster that gave me 
such a frightful nervous attack on the very day of my return. 
Such a rattle-trap! Does it not look odd in my apartment, 
Arnold? Does it not stand there as if in mockery of my princi- 
ples and tastes? Were you aware that this article of fright 
was to be part of the baggage brought from over the sea?^^ 

“ It would have been superfluous to make such an announce- 
ment. Besides, the splendid instrument is no ‘ rattle-trap,^ 
nor does it stand in your room. You occupy the Beletage.^^ 

“ I beg pardon, my friend. Thank God, with the walling- 
up of this villainous passage-way these mysterious noises will 
cease — 

“ It was not the spirit of poor Adam, you see, as you de^ 
dared and persisted, and that ‘ villainous passage-way ^ is the 
work of the pious monks, Clementine — 

“ — Noises will cease, the lady reiterated, composedly, 
ignoring his remarks. “ I occupied these rooms when we were 
first married, and you know I am a stickler for my rights. 
The light in the Beletage is too glaring for my sensitive sight, 
and I am obliged to roast behind drawn bhnds that wonT let 
in a particle of fresh air. Here the light is shaded pleasingly, 
and it was for this reason I was so anxious to consult with you 
?4t once in regard to the repairs. You will admit that I have 


IN' THE SOHILLTNGSCOURT, 

a right to hare my say in the matter? This is what brought 
me down now. I am frantic to get back to my old quarters.^’ 

He smiled bitterly, and turned to follow the workmen out 
of the room. 

Am I to be left here alone ?^^ she cried, without moving 
from the spot. 

“ Have you anything more to say to me? If so, be good 
enough to accompany me into the garden. It is hardly polite 
to make ourselves so much at home in other people^s rooms. 

‘‘ My God! I wasnT aware that I had let them out by con- 
tract. Besides, your guest will have sense enough to know 
that we can’t give orders for repairs without coming in to see 
the extent of damage done on the premises. ” 

If you had adhered to the subject — ” 

“ And pray, what other subject have I broached? Has my 
intention to occupy the rooms immediately no connection with 
it? However, I could not, believe me, have expressed my 
fervent desire for repossession had I not known that the ^ mis- 
sion ’ is at an end. A reconciliation has taken place, as I see 
by the daily intercourse between the Cloister people and Schil- 
lingscourt. Mrs. Lucian will naturally take charge of her 
grandchildren, and we shall have our rooms vacant before we 
know it. I hardly think Madame de Valmaseda will care to 
remain a moment longer than is absolutely necessary in our 
unassuming domicile. The lady has already suffered great in- 
convenience, as I see plainly, now, in sacrificing herself to 
comply with her brother’s request, and you certainly can not 
expect her to stay.” 

“I? Surely I have neither the power nor will to trespass 
beyond the authority invested in me by Felix. I have no desire 
toTnfluence the lady.” 

“ Well, then we agree fully, my friend, and Madame de 
Valmaseda will doubtless excuse — ” 

' At this moment the door to the adjoining room was pushed 
open, and Mercedes entered. 

It was evident from her neglige appearance that she had not 
intended coming in, for her heavy hair, usually fastened in a 
net, was simply held together with a comb that gleamed like a 
band of gold in the dark, shining tresses, from which a stray 
ringlet escaped here and there upon forehead and neck. 

“ I have nothing to excuse,” said she, inclining her stately 
head slightly to the mistress of Schillingscourt. “ I appreciate 
the justice of your remarks, and understand your anxiety to 
see the house restored to its former quiet. But I am never- 
theless forced to crave your indulgence for a few days longer. 


^2^ IK TFTE SCHILlJKGSCOUliT. 

as the physician most peremptorily forbids the removal of niy : 
little nephew until he is strong enough to endure the confusion 
of hotel residence w^ithout danger of a relapse. 

The baroness scrutijiizcd, from under her drooping lids, the 
beautiful speaker from head to foot. She had maintained the , 
most courteous demeanor toward her husband thus far, but 
nothing could have changed her mood and poisoned her ami- 
ability quicker than a sight of this strikingly handsome Ameri- ; 
can. Could there have been a more lovely picture than this 
piquant face, with its great sunny eyes, above which the wealth 
of hair was so negligently gathered, and below which could be : ! 
seen a portion of the round tenderly curved neck? ] 

The sight decided the lady. ; 

‘ ‘ The W olf ram establishment, I should think, was, j ust now, • 
all that could be desired as a quiet resort. Mrs. Lucian is the 
only occupant now. ^ i 

The baroness said it with great innocence; the drooping eye- ^ 
lids were not lifted, and she added, ‘‘ but it is hardly a suitable J 
home for an elegant lady.-’ ^ 

‘‘ That does not influence me. I would much rather go 
there than adapt myself to the necessity of renewing my re- 
quest. I am not thinking of myself, but of my brother’s 
children. I would be remiss in my duty did I take them into | 
that dreary, sunless home; their happy spirits would suffer in ' 
that oppressive gloom. Their grandmother would also ob- 
ject.” 

The baron had approached the piano, and stood idly finger- 
ing some sheets of music. 

^‘This explanation is superfiuous! How can you talk of 
hotels, madame? The rooms here are at your command as 
long as you feel disposed to remain. ” ^ 

“Thank you, Baron Schilling,” she replied; but as I said 
before, it is only a matter of a few days. I am negotiating 
for the purchase of a villa near the city. ” 

You!” The music escaped his fingers, and a deep fiush 
crimsoned his cheeks. Why, it is not long since you were - 
ready to sail, as it were, and now you contemplate anchoring / 
on German soil — on German ground!” / ; 

‘‘Yes, on German ground, sir!” was the defiant retort. ' 

“ Would you like to banish me?” 

“ That is not a Schilling’s privilege; my allusion had refer- : 
ence to your remarkably sudden change of mood. ” 

“ Moods change with circumstances. I have become fond ' 
of my brother’s mother, his children now belong to her. 
Those three beings are all 1 have to live for and love. I hav§ 


IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOURT. 


22S 


decided to stay because I can not part from them. That is 
why I ‘ anchor on German soil, ^ and not because I detest it any 
the less. If you imagine that, you are laboring under the 
national German want of penetration/' 

She passed her hand over her brow and paused, as if shocked 
by her own vindictiveness; and that covertly scrutinizing gray 
woman's eyes were upon her, ceaselessly watchful. Composing 
herself with an effort, she continued, with less excitement: 

‘‘ The situation and style of the villa reminds me of my des- 
olated and destroyed birth-place. In the summer season I can 
readily deceive myself into the fancy that I am not on German 
soil. The large hot-houses supply the southern flora that 
surrounds the little castle, and winds itself into the very forest 
that surrounds the park." 

‘‘You are negotiating for the princely Trebra estate?" the 
baron queried in astonishment, and the “ gracious lady's " eyes 
expanded with an expression of involuntary respect, not un- 
mixed with annoyance. 

“ Yes, sir; is that anything wonderful? Did you think a 
.lady could not make a purchase without calling to her aid coun- 
sel and protection. I assure you I know exactly what I ana 
doing. The prince is going to Italy shortly to reside there 
permanently, and the agent tells me the place has but recently 
been put in perfect order. 1 can take the children there as 
soon as practicable. " 

“ Why, that is a splendid arrangement," said the baroness, 
preparing to depart; “ and pray, madame, consider this house 
your home in the meantime. But, my dear Arnold, in refer- 
ence to your affairs, I can only say that I will not consent to 
your occupying those hot, close rooms above the studio any 
Icmger. The low ceilings makes the place intolerably op- 
pressive. " 

“ Don't be uneasy about me. My last painting goes to the 
Vienna Exposition to-morrow. I shall follow in a comple of 
days. Then I am going to Copenhagen to remain some time 
making new studies?" 

“ Good Lord! and I only heard of it this moment! How do 
you expect my maid to get ready at such short notice? And 
my traveling clothes? Really, my dear Arnold, this is most 
inconsiderate. ' ' . She fastened the ends of the lace barbe 
securely under her chin, grasped her gray trail hastily, saying: 
“ But if I hope to be ready at the proper time, I have not a 
moment to lose." 

“ Do you imagine I expect you to accompany me, when you 
have just said that you were suffering more than ever. A 


224 m THE SCHILLINGSCOUKT. 

northern climate will not improve your health — and you have 
not been home long/ ^ 

“ No matter. Under any ckcumstances I am going with 
yoii.^^ 

‘‘That remains to be seen.^^ With a deeply respectful 
bow to Mercedes, and closely followed by his wife, the baron 
left the room. 

Mercedes heard them walking through the hall toward the 
garden. Unconscious of what she was doing, she stepped out 
into the corridor, and watched them walking along under the 
sycamores, the lady clinging lovingly to her husband’s arm. 
Mercedes’s sight became misty. She returned to her room, 
and in the deep embrasure of the window, tears, burning tears, 
welled into her eyes. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

“ You are feverish,” remarked the baroness, as she touched . 
his hand in passing her own through his arm, “ and you are 
seriously angry, I see ” — she clung still closer to him in speak- 
ing — “ and I have in reality done nothing wrong. Have you 
the right to expect that I should order a faithful, self-sacrific- 
ing old friend from the house merely because you have an 
aversion for her?” 

“ I unquestionably have the right in this instance.” 

“ Arnold, no one has suffered more than I have, in conse- 
quence of Adelaide’s presence in our house, but that is done 
with now. A better excuse to get rid of her ” — she lowered 
her voice to a whisper and glanced around — “ could not be • 
thought of. We are going away, and all that is needed is your 
decided request for me to accompany you. ” 

“ And you think I will make such a request?” 

He halted in his hasty strides toward the studio, and di’ew 
his arm away from her hand. . 

“ To be sure you will,” she replied. 

“ I travel alone now, and in the future; and you are at lib- ^ 
erty to do the same. My interest in your movements ceased ■: 
when you went to Rome without my consent, and regardless of ■ ' 
my feelings on the subject. I resolved then upon the stand I ; 
have now taken. ” | 

“ I decline this liberty, and shall not grant it to you!” 

He made no reply, but smiled peculiarly as he hastened to 
his studio, his wife keeping close at his side. 

The conservatory door was open; the air was close within; 
the fountain jets were all turned off some hours before by th® 




IK THE SCHILLIKGSCOIJRT. 


22S 


bAron, because their ■ rippling disturbed him. He approached 
the large basin, and directly the air was cooled by a silvery 
spray of water. The baroness busied herSelf with the impor- 
tance of a helpful housewife in starting the various little fount- 
ains in their marble basins nestling among the plants. 

‘‘How pretty!'^ she cried, with condescending affability, 
watching the circling sprays as they fell into the large basim 
“ 1 had no idea of this charming toy behind these glass walls, 
or I should have overcome my aversion to the place, and 
slipped in here frequently to be near to you. However, when 
we return ITl make up for it. 

Hot a feature indicated his thoughts; but rapidly turning off 
every one of the sprays she had opened, he remarked : 

“ It makes it too damp here. It was a mistake collecting 
such a quantity of water near my studio. ” 

“ Is there an excessive supply?’’ 

“ Enough to float my work-room in case the drains were 
neglected.” 

Pushing aside the curtain, he entered the studio, she fol- 
lowed him, saying: “ That would be a pretty climax to cap the 
confusion and destruction over in the house. But apropos, 
my friend,” she added, sinking languidly into a chair, “ con- 
fess now, were not my instincts correct respecting those intrud- 
ing Americans? Good honest old Schillingscourt has been 
subjected to strange vicissitudes lately. The flight of a ballet- 
dancer without paying her debts; death-inviting sickness, that 
attacked me also when I came . home so unprepared for such 
changes; the almost irreparable damage to our lovely paneled 
room, and our own misunderstanding. All this has come 
upon us through these strangers! And what is the gratitude 
you receive for all the misery they have caused you? The 
barefaced insolence of this impudent cotton-princess! I hardly 
think you have made a conquest of this bronze-colored beauty, 
my friend..” The speaker shook her head meditatively, and 
chuckled softly, wickedly. “ She said some very naughty, 
hateful things. She was not exactly flattering you when she 
spoke of ‘ the national German want of penetration.’ ” 

He had stepped back to the easel, and the large picture on 
it prevented her from seeing how his color changed from the 
freshness of health to deathly paleness. 

The languidly reclining lady continued talking with the 
most smiling complacency about the “ most intensely amus- 
ing ” scene she had ever witnessed in the paneled room; then 
she suddenly started up from her indolent attitude, exclaiming: 
“ But, mercy! here I am +«lking away valuable time, while 


m THE SCHILLIHGSCOUET. 


236 


my maid is idly reading, unconscious of the mountains of work 
looming up before her. Seriously, Arnold, can^t you postpone | 
it just one more day?^^ ^ ^ | 

“ Have I not said that my journey will in no way incon- -| 
venience you? How often must I tell you that I am going * 
ftlone?^^ ^ , 

Honsense! I am going to notify Adelaide. > 

He appeared suddenly from behind the easel; one glance at ? 
his stern face told her she had an inexorable antagonist to deal 


with. 

And I will notify Miss von Eiedt m loriting that I shall 
not permit you to accompany me under any circumstances! 
That, from henceforth into all futurity, your ‘ soul,^ to borrow 
a pathetic current phrase, is left to her absolute management 
and protection. 

She bounded from her chair as if physical debility and 
‘‘ delicate nerves were weaknesses to which she had never 
been addicted. 

You will do nothing of the kind, my dear Arnold said 
she, derisively. “ I have friends extending longing arms to 
me. Once within that embrace, you would find me — ^but 
never mind me. I would, however, remind you that in such 
an event all the significance attached to the Steinhruck name 
would be lost to you. An expensive step, yOu see. 

I am familiar with those excellent ‘ friends;^ they are the 
ones who have been maneuvered into the belief that you were 
induced to forsake the holy cause, for which you were intended, 
by the devilish allurements of my good father, who hoped, by 
the ‘ significance attached to the Steinhruck name, ’ to benefit 
his son. They have been kept under the false impression to 
the present time that your piously ascetic nature would long 
since have followed the bent of a chaste heart, and fied from a 
life so repulsive to you back to the unselfish ‘ longing ^ ones, 
were you not forced by the ‘ yes ^ once spoken to remain at my 
side. I am well posted, Clementine, and can see through the 
treacherous being who cheats her friends by a pious seeming, 
and yet clings really to all that is worldly. 

She sunk silently back in her chair, biting her lips excitedly. 

It is only too true. My father did anxiously desire the mar- 
riage. Your apparent amiability, your prettily indited, 
womanly letters pi-esented a Madonna-like disposition to his 
imagination. Death was approaching^ as he thought, and he 
believed he was securing a beautiful, happy future for his son. 
But that son was only gazing into the tenderly fading eyed 
with no thought of his own future — only glad to see them 




I 



IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUilT. 227 

brigliten once more. You were not ignorant of this, for X 
told you at the time without reserve. 

“ And this means— who knows with what object — that you 
never loved me?'’^ 

“ Have I ever made hypocritical protestations?^^ he ex- 
claimed, turning upon her sharply. ‘‘I did, at first, honestly 
try to harmonize our life — 

“ So did I! ’^ She rose slowly, with the important demeanor 
of one who held a trump card in reserve. I can never for- 
get the few hours I spent at Schillingscourt before our mar- 
riage; ostensibly a visitor, but really to take a look at the 
place. I was — why deny it? — ^painfully shocked to think you 
were obliged to bring a young wife into the tobacco-scented 
quarters of an old soldier. And how cheerfully I rescued you 
from such humiliation! In the course of a few weeks Schil- 
lingscourt became a suitable place for us. This, alas! you 
have forgotten. 

‘‘No! you have taken good care that I should not, or I 
would not have had occasion to sigh, time and again, God de- 
liver all ‘poor men from a rich wife!^’ 

“ Really, such an intolerable yoke can be shaken 

“ For us the difficulty will not be great, as I happen to 
know that the black-robed lady over in the Beletage of the 
Column House, your, true and self-sacrificing friend, carries in 
her pocket a special document from Rome annulling our mar- 
riage.'’ 

“ And knowing this you failed to take immediate advantage 
of what would be a most welcome release?" was her triumph- 
ant cry. 

“ Simply because I had no inclination to meddle with your 
monkish scheming, nor burden my conscience with the re- 
proach of having hastened your convent imprisonment. " 

“ Arnold!" 

The appealing tones caused him to recoil with a gesture of 
repulsion. The action enraged her. 

“ Ho you comprehend that when the convent closes upon 
me it closes also upon all the wealth that gave Baron Schilling 
eminence? Do you flatter yourself you would still be received 
by our aristocracy when you are no longer my husband, and 
the owner of a colossal fortune?" she queried, insultingly. 

. “ Think you I have ever attached the slightest importance 
to such equivocal respect? Who are these people who conde- 
scend to receive — as in this case — her husband for the sake of 
the wealthy wife, and the colossal fortune? A few aristocrats,, 
who, in deprecating the fact that riches are not divided ao 


228 


IN IhB SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


cording to their notions in these timeSj are yet glad to receive 
among their number one who constitutes a power in his 
wealth! They are not my world. They do not add honorable 
luster to my name! When I go out into the world now with- 
out you — 

You will have neither home nor hearth to warm a wel- 
coming return. 

You think not? The dear old Column House and its 
garden is mine! And that work — ^pointing to the picture 
on the easel — will pay the last mortgage you hold upon my 
home. That is all I want. [Not a farthing of Steinbruck 
money clings to it; and, by the authority of ownership, I now 
request you to remove, as soon as possible, everything, not 
omitting the smallest nail, that belongs to you within the four 
wails of Schillingscourt!^^ 

‘‘ Arnold, forgive !^^ she wailed. 

‘‘ Go!^^ said he, hoarse with the agitation that shook his 
vigorous form. After all the harm your vituperative tongue 
has done me, earth has no language to reconcile us! Go to 
those friends whose arms are ^ longingly extended. ^ Let these 
guardians of your youth reap the fruits of their training, and 
extirpate the evil spirits that have poisoned my existence. 
They condemn the drama as a ‘ delusive evil,^ regardless of 
the fact that they educate girls to enact tragedies in the homes 
of their future husbands. 

He hastened up the winding stairs, and the baroness sunk 
like one utterly crushed upon the floor beside the chair. 

Dare you take such a step? Recollect that you are com- 
pro;nising all those who represent Schilling in that long pict- 
ure-gallery,’^ she called after him. “Not many are aware of 
the impoverished condition of your house; but when the Church 
claims Jmy property, all the world will know that old Baron 
Kraflt von Schilling could not call a tree, even a blade of grass 
in the meadows, his own.” 

“ Then let the world know it! We alone have been the 
sufferers. No man on earth has lost a penny through us. 
There is no dishonor attached to our name. ” 

^ “ But the curse of ridicule will cling to it,” she exclaimed, 
dsing. She fancied his voice was less resolute, less Arm in 
oearing, and gained confidence. 

“Arnold, let this be our last quarrel!” She approached 
laim hastily with outstretched hands. “ I promise never to 
mention this hateful subject again, never. Take me back!” 

“No! I will not drag out a depressing, sunless existence 
with you.” 


IK THE SOHILLIKGSCOURT. $29 

^ But I shall not release you! I will not move from your 
side! The place is mine — mine!^"’ was her desperate cry. 
“ Arnold, I will humble myself before all the world and con* 
fess that I begged you to tolerate me as your wife. Whaf' 
more can you ask?^^ 

He looked at her with a shudder of repulsion. Do not 
compel me to utter the word that has trembled on my tongue 
so long.^^ 

‘‘ Speak! it can not intimidate me.’^ 

The word liate^ everlasting, insuperable hate!’^ he replied, 
hurrying up the stairs to lock himself into his room. 

Like a being tottering from a blow she clutched at the bal- 
uster. 

Hate, hate!^’ she muttered; ‘‘yes, the word has cut the 
cord. So be it! so be it!’^ she laughed, wildly. “ But time 
will show the wretch his mistake! He will see when it is too 
late. Then he will realize to the full what it is to suffer, when 
he has been hurled from the pinnacle of eminence. Let him 
enjoy his triumph until that hour. Oh, that will hurt and 
humble! Oh, if I could only die!^^ 

Collecting her strength she lifted her bowed form and stared 
wildly about; the echo of that awful, that decisive word ring- 
ing in her ears, and resounding from every ci’evice and corner, 
as if mocking her presence there. With tottering steps she 
approached the curtain, drew it aside, and entered the con- 
servatory. 

The sunlight penetrated the network of foliage and caught 
the fountain's spray as it fell, turning the tiny drops into mill- 
ions of golden beads, that rippled upon the waters of the basin. 
There was a striking monotony in this perpetual murmuring, 
in the midst of the horticultural silence, and close to the scene 
of human tumult and passion just ended between those two 
unhappy beings. 

She stared at the restless element that was quivering in its 
marble limits. What if its drains were closed? She saw the 
picture — the water rise higher, higher, as if some object were 
lifting a silvery veil; she saw it unfold and spread, saw it fall 
over the edge of the basin and creep silently toward that cur- 
tain like some silvery train. Hi, ho! how that mosaic floor 
began to gleam and have life! Great sheets of paper covered 
with drawings, and those detested faces stretched on their can- 
vas mountings, were rocking themselves upon that silvery 
train. Those panther and bear rugs rose upon it as if they 
were undulating with life once more. Marble fragments, ped- 
estals, cabinets, vases, even the furniture, began to float and 


IK THE SCHILLINGSCOHRl*. 


m 

crash as if torn from their footing by rude hands^ and the 
beautiful cups and goblets, and all those antique treasures — 
Ha! a shriek of exultation was supjDressed, and with a deter- 
mined face, the tall, bent figure hastened away, the rustling of 
her train mingling with the sound that came hissing from her 
lips again and again, Hate! hate!^^ 


OHAPTEE XXXn. 

Shortly after, the Beletage was in a state of confusion? 
servants running hither and yon. All her ladyship^s trunks 
were in demand, and the canoness stood by, directing their 
packing. Her face was in a glow, and her dark eyes glittered 
strangely; but there was no nervousness apparent in her direc- 
tions; her orders were clear and to the point. 

It was, however, remarkable that all the silver- ware, every 
particle of household linen, and books, pictures, and orna- 
ments were stowed into trunks also. This looked as if the 
lady contemplated a long absence; and still more peculiar. 
Miss von Eiedt had sent for her ladyship’s attorney in great 
haste, and gossiping Eobert suggested that the mistress proba- 
bly required an immediate and large sum of money. 

Mamselle Birkner told Hanna about it, and thus the news 
was carried to Mercedes. The baroness was going to accom- 
pany her husband after all, Mercedes thought, notwithstanding 
her contempt for his profession and labors. She had a horror 
of the painting that was to be exhibited, and yet persisted ob- 
stinately in going with the man whose creation it was, even 
while boiling with inward rage in witnessing his fame and the 
success of his master creation. A few weeks ago Mercedes 
would have felt some satisfaction in seeing the Nemesis that 
followed the artist in revenge for his mercenary marriage; but 
to-day she experienced a sensation of acute regret, and fretted 
at the blind fate that chained a noble, manly souL to a narrow- 
minded, mean-spirited woman. She did not, nor had she any 
desire, to see him again. She was afraid of those honest blue 
eyes; she could not meet that searching gaze with dignified 
composure. 

But she must see his pet work once more — that aged Hugue- 
not woman — before it was imprisoned in its dark case, on its 
way to triumphant light. 

It had gro\vn dark. The setting sun had long since van- 
ished behind the mountains, but the pale moonlight shone full 
upon the scene, reflecting a silvery sheen from the white ex- 
terior of the Column House, lighting up garden and fields, and 


IK THE SCIIILLIKGSCOTJET. 


2S1 

netting the little rivulets to dancing like so many diamond- 
decked elves, and encompassing the atelier with its pale radi- 
ance. 

Donna Mercedes passed swiftly through the boscage and over 
the lawn, her footfalls muffled by the soft grass. Hanna had 
mentioned that the baron had gone out riding— nothing un- 
usual on bright, moonlight evenings, and the baroness had 
locked herself in her room, to be awa^ from the noise of pack- 
ing. The gardener had gone to a neighboring beer saloon,, and 
all was quiet about the grounds, and Mercedes hoped to escape 
observation, though she started like a culprit at the least 
sound. As she neared the studio she was startled by the sound 
of rushing waters, and hurried forward in self-forgetting speed. 

The moonlight illuminated the windows of the conservatory, 
and she could have sketched every fern and leaf outlined 
against the panes; but she noticed also that the fountains were 
all turned on in full force. Like waterfalls, the basins were 
overflowing, and the sprays shot up their sparkling bodies 
among the plants with a force that seemed to become stronger 
each instant. She looked on in affright for a moment, then 
tried to enter the glass door, but found it locked. The drain- 
pipes were evidently stopped up. The floor was already flood- 
ed, and some of the pot-plants were overturning. 

The door to the studio was open and the curtains drawn 
back; there was no dividing door-sill between the mosaic floor 
and the conservatory; but along the walls of that mosaic floor 
stood innumerable half-flnished, paintings, sketches, and valu- 
able bric-d-brac — they would be ruined if the water reached 
them. 

She rushed to the other door; that was also locked; but the 
one leading to the second story was partly open. She flew up 
the stairs, and paused an instant on the moonlighted landing, 
then opened the door and entered Baron Schilling's anteroom. 
The baroness was right, the air was close, depressingly close, 
in this low-ceilinged place to which the master of Schillings- 
court had banished himself for the sake of the scruples of his 
dead friend ^s sister, who declined living under the same roof 
with him. 

Mercedes hastily drew aside the Gobelin curtain between the 
studio and the artistes chambers, and stepped upon the gallery. 

The moon beamed into the spacious quadrangle apartment 
below, with its color-glowing surroundings, looking so different 
in its present pale light to the picture it had presented in the 
gold-reflecting gleams of the afternoon sun. 

The conservatory, with its wealth of floral green, seen from 


232 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


this point through the glass partition, looked like some blos- 
soming island in its watery bed. The dripping, rippling noise 
of the unfettered fountains resounded strong and distinct, and 
the flood came rolling wave-like into the studio. 

Mercedes saw this at the first glance, and was in the act of 
rushing down the winding stairs, when a partly suppressed but 
exulting laugh rang through the studio. Notwithstanding her 
fearless nature, Mercedes recoiled with a feeling of terror. 
Was it the voice of a child, or the laugh of a maniac? 

She leaned over the baluster and looked around. Not a liv- 
ing creature was to be seen; but at the foot of the stairs lay 
huddled some dark object — a lifeless bundle it looked like — 
until a wave spread nearer and nearer, and suddenly the thing 
jumped up out of the shadow into the bright moonlight — it 
was the mistress of Schillingscourt. She had crouched there, 
watching the creeping waters, and now moved with excited 
haste along the walls, upsetting the pictures, dashing down 
sketch-books, portfolios, everything was hurled upon the floor, 
until she came to the table upon which the knife lay that had 
sundered the canvas with its Madonna head from its frame. 

The destroying blade gleamed in the moonlight in her up- 
raised hand. She was regardless of the hair streaming over 
neck and back, but made an attempt to save her trailing dress 
from the water that began to soak her feet. 

One moment she stood thus, looking at the picture that was 
to be sent abroad on the morrow, and muttered, “ Down over 
the face and into the shameless breast — then he will know what 
hate means, and what it can do!’^ - 

Mercedes glided down the stairs, and came up behind her 
noiselessly, just as the tall, slender figure with a serpentine 
movement made a dash at the pathetic face of the little maiden 
beside that aged matron. But the destroying arm was sudden- 
ly wrenched back and held fast. 

Mercedes, however, had underestimated her antagonist, nor 
calculated upon the absolutely masculine strength of this deli- 
cately nerved, frail creature, with her languid seeming. To 
be sure she was startled out of her wits for an instant, when 
she found herself in the embrace of a pair of soft, but strong 
arms; but she uttered a loud, shrill laugh, when she saw the 
girlish face behind her. 

“ Ah, the plantation princess! And what brings you to the 
private apartment of a married man, chaste donna?^^ 

With a quick wrench she thought to escape her enemy 
grasp, and succeeded in freeing one arm, and like ^ madwoman 
made a dash at the picture again with the knife. 


m THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


233 


Mercedes endeavored to wrest it from her, but failed. She 
felt the blood trickling along her arm from a cut her hand had 
received in the struggle; growing desperate, she began to cry 
for help, until her ringing voice re-echoed through the building. 

Let me go!^^ the baroness groaned fiercely, as people began 
to rattle at the doors for admittance; but Mercedes held fast, 
with all her now exhausted strength, and continued calling 
for help, in dread lest the miserable woman might succeed in 
destroying the picture at one blow with her free hand. 

‘‘Here, help! here, in here!^^ she cried, until at last the 
Gobelin curtain was dashed aside and relief came. 

The stable-boy was the first to clear the stairs, and closely 
following came Mrs. Lucian. 

“ Take the knife from her — she would destroy the picture!’^ 
Mercedes exclaimed, but the baroness flung the weapon from 
her, and, almost fainting, Mercedes now released her hold 
upon the lady, and with a presence of mind stronger than her 
fright she endeavored to shield the lady^s conduct from the 
knowledge of the servants, by saying to the boy — “ The baron- 
ess is ill — she has a violent fever — go and inform Miss Riedt — 

“ The baron has returned, said Mrs. Lucian, with a 
comprehensive glance at the picture, then at the baroness, who 
slipped by her just then with the intention of making her es- 
cape by the winding stairs, but sunk down at the foot of it 
with a shriek such as frequently resounded throughout the 
Column House, when Mrs. Lucian added: “ He will probably 
be here in a moment, as he saw us running this way. 

Mercedes looked at the shrieking baroness, but Mrs. Lucian 
remarked, contemptuously, “ Humbug! all acting!'’^ 

Mercedes wet her handkerchief and bound it about her 
wounded fingers, ju^ as the baron stepped out upon the gal- 
lery. 

“ What is the matter here?^^ was his astonished exclamation. 

“ Some wretch has stopped up the drains, the stable-boy 
called out from the conservatory, where he was wading about 
the fountains, shutting off the water, and removing the stop- 
pers to the drain-pipes. 

The baron hastened down the steps, and his foot touched 
the fainting form lying at the foot of them. 

’ He stooped to feel her pulse, and laid his hand upon her 
temple — then turned away as if his doubts were verified. 

Was it the moonlight, or some violent emotion that had 
robbed his face of all color? — it was like death. He seemed to 
be oblivious of the precious treasures— embodying many hours 
of thought and toil that were scattered about in a reckless; 


234 


m THE SCHILLINGSC'OURT. 


ruin. He passed by Mrs. Lucian unnoticing — he only looked 
with anxiously questioning eyes at the white figure withdraw- 
ing behind the easel, while covering the blood-stains on her 
dress with its folds, and striving to present a calm exterior. 

“ The misfortunes at the Cloister House seem to be con- 
tagious — they have spread to Schillingsconrt,^'’ Mrs. Lucian re- 
marked, adding in explanation, ‘‘ I was just going as usual, 
to see my grandchildren to bed, when I heard calls for help, 
and seeing the boy running this way I hurried after him. It 
is something shocking to see two women wrestling, as if for life 
— that is what I saw here — she turned with a frowm toward 
the stairway where a decided rustling of silk garments betrayed 
life. ‘‘ I canT imagine what ails your wife, baron? This 
dear young lady here says she is sick — she must be right, for 
none but an insane person, or a case-hardened sinner, cuts and 
slashes around with a knife — here it is, she scolded, touching 
it with her foot — at a harmless painting.’’^ 

“ Thank God! it is not damaged!^'’ exclaimed Mercedes in 
tenderly trembling accents, unconsciously speaking as if the 
rescued object were the dearest thing on earth to her. 

A sudden ray of glory, a flash of light came into the deep 
blue eyes of the man. He could scarcely believe his senses, 
the thrillingly heart-felt words moved him strangely. He took 
her hand with a mute pressure, the hand that had defended 
his work — an emanation of his soul — wdth a reckless forgetful- 
ness of self, possible only for a woman who loves! 

She snatched her hand away. ‘‘It is nothing — a trifling 
scratch — and pray donT magmfy it into a matter of life and 
death, she remarked coldly, with a light laugh, as if speaking 
willfully rude for the purpose of punishing the treacherous 
emotions of a moment ago. “ There is nothing extraordinary 
in chocking a dangerously delirious person; but we are wasting 
time, while your books and pictures are absorbing ruin — and 
the lady yonder ought to be taken to the house. 

Mrs. Lucian had approached the baroness and spoke to her, 
but she received no reply. 

“ Do not trouble yourself,^’ said the baron, “ I will go after 
Miss Riedt, her attendant; she is the only one who understands 
these attacks."’^ 

He hastened away, and Mrs. Lucian said to Mercedes, solic- 
itously: “You must go and change your clothes; it worries 
me to think of your wet feet and your wounded hand. Send 
for the doctor and have it dressed at once. DonT be at all 
uneasy; the painting is safe, while I am here as sentinel. 

Mercedes left the place, but paused for a moment in th^ 


m THE SCHTLLIXGSCOUKT. 


m 

tihadowy arch of the door-way, waiting for the heavy footstepi 
that were becoming faint along the. avenue to die out in the 
distance, then she hurried toward the house by the hedge path- 
way to avoid being seen by any one again that evening. In 
the vicinity of the Column House she saw the baron returning, 
accompanied by the canoness and a gentleman. The lady 
walked as haughtily erect as ever, and carried a number of 
shawls and medicine flasks, characteristic of a conscientious 
nurse. 

An hour later the carriage drove to the door, and the baron- 
ess, closely veiled, leaning upon the arm of her attorney and 
supported by the canoness, came down the steps, and was 
driven to the depot in time to catch the last train that night. 

Everything was silent. The canoness had issued a manifesto 
that none of the servants were to be visible, and consequently 
only a few curiously wondering eyes followed the gray train on 
its departure along the columned hall. They knew their 
severe mistress was going, to return no more. 

There had been a stormy scene enacted in the atelier. The 
wrangling had resoundod through the garden in the silence of 
the night. The high, shrill tones of feminine reproaches, that 
at times almost became imprecations, were mingled with the 
calmly sonorous words that fell on the air like mallet strokes. 
Then the atelier door was banged shut until the walls trem- 
bled, and a phantom-like gray figure flitted along the sycamore 
avenue as if it were an evil spirit driven from a long main- 
tained stronghold by conquering right. 

The ancient pines behind the studio might well groan and 
shake their heads, for this was the first time such a distressing 
parting had been witnessed by them upon Schilling soil. 
There had been some overbearing old fellows among the Schil- 
ling husbands, and some of the wives had maintained an intel- 
lectual as well as physical equality, yet wearing the woman’s 
scepter with dignity, for the husband would have a lord and 
master’s supremacy, no matter how valuable the worldly goods 
she brought him, nor what her name and rank. Though those 
masculine tyrants roared and stormed ever so fiercely, the old 
trees never could have told of such cuttingly vituperative lan- 
guage as fell from the tongue of woman that night in the 
atelier. 

The following day the baron held a long consultation wi,th 
her ‘‘ladyship’s” steward and Mamselle Birkner, who were 
instructed to take charge of all that had once belonged to thfe 
mistress of Schillingscourt, to be forwarded to that lady. 

Luckily for Mercedes, Mis. Lucian happened to be with hej 


236 


IK THE SCHILLING SCOUHT, 

grandchildren, and present, when late in the afterncow Bsron 
Schilling was announced by Jack. 

She trembled and retreated to the window, bereft of all 
composure, when he entered. 

The carriage was in waiting, and he was dressed for his 
journey. 

“ I have come to place my home once more at the disposal 
of Madame de Valmaseda and Lucianos children, said he to 
Mrs. Lucian, politely declining the chair she offered him. 
“ My excellent Birkner and Hanna will do their best to make 
the place as home-like and comfortable as possible after other 
people^s property has been taken away. 

How strangely severe the words sounded, accompanied by 
such a beaming face. 

‘‘ I must go abroad. I have the depressing consciousness 
that I have become a savage, in a prolonged warfare with 
mentally degenerating influences; until these distorting im- 
pressions are worn off I shall not return. 

He walked to the window and took Mercedeses hand tenderly 
between his own beautiful, strong, white ones. All anger and 
resentment had gone from those bright, blue eyes, and there 
glowed the fire that had flashed in them for one moment on 
the previous day. 

‘‘ Forgive, he whispered; ‘‘ the uncouth German has been 
a sad bungler in reading human souls. He will do penance by 
a long and lonely pilgrimage. 

He pressed his lips softly, gently, upon the wounded hand, 
and was gone. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

Thebe A Villa, a princely estate, was situated in the sub- 
urbs of the city. A much frequented drive, bordered by 
favorite promenades, ran by the park, in the depth of which a 
peaceful quiet reigned. The timid golden pheasant inhabited 
the thicket; deer grazed fearlessly upon the lawns, while a 
cooling breeze was always wafted from out the densely inter- 
woven foliage of the woodland shades, where, in the moist deep 
the giant ferns thrived, and where ivy and vines would soon 
have obliterated all trace of footpaths had not the pruning 
human hand been constantly at work. 

These paths wound their serpentine way along some dis^ 
tance before they led upon signs of human life, although an 
occasional rustic pavilion could be seen, but the only living 
thing about it was the shining lizard moving among the vines 


IIS' THE SCHILLIHGSCOURT. 


237 


overgrowing the roof, or the twittering bird that, for a mo- 
ment, lighted upon the stone seat in front of it, in its experi- 
mental flight from the parent nest. Eventually there gleamed 
through the terminating thicket a marble bust, or a group of 
figures, that lured you onward until the ascent opened upon a 
line of marble columns that were ranged like some giant harp, 
hovering above the dark-green forest. 

It was this peculiar aspect that reminded Mercedes of her 
southern home. 

Away across the ocean the blackened, marble ruin lay hid- 
den by weeds and creepers that had been shaken off from the 
trees to infold in their grasping toils this fallen work of man. 
Here also the million spiral creepers reached out their green 
feelers, threatening to intwine the whitely gleaming building; 
but the training hand guarded each climbing rose and willful 
vine from trespass. And so they wandered over terrace walls 
and railing, leaving an occasional gold gleaming spot of tr^lis 
exposed, and falling like a flowery pink and white cascade 
from terrace to terrace. 

Since this had been occupied by the ‘‘American lady 
many a curious pedestrian had wandered through the woods 
simply for a glimpse of the beautiful woman who could be 
seen among the flowers in her park, or coming down the ter- 
race steps to mount her horse and gallop away. 

It was nearly three years since Mercedes had purchased the 
estate, and still the novelty of her foreign appearance had not 
ceased to attract, and her fabulous riches continued to be a 
subject of conversation and wonderment; curiosity was proba- 
bly enhanced by her mysteriously retiring mode of life, that 
seemed to crave no society but Mrs. Lucianos and her brother's 
pretty children. 

True to her word, Mrs. Lucian left the Cloister House as 
soon as duty permitted. No will having been found, she was 
the sole inheritor of the Wolfram possessions. Some months 
after the accident she sold the estate, and made her home at 
Villa Yalmaseda. 

Tears trembled in her eyes when she bade farewell to the 
old place. ' The new owner contemplated tearing the tottering 
monastery down, and she heard' the creaking of the little rat- 
tling portal with sorrowful emotion as she passed out for the 
last time. The clattering noise was associated with every 
eventful act of her life — confirmation, marriage, her return, 
the flight of her disowned son, and her brother's last unfortii? 
nate exit. 

It was a sad parting, but to Mercedeses quiet joy, she noticed 


238 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUIIT. • 

that the deep melancholy gradually passed from Mrs. Liiciaii^B 
face, her manner became less brusque, and her eyes beamed 
with dawning content and happiness when surrounded by her 
lovely grandchildren, or watching them at play with faithful 
old Pirate. 

As in days gone by, when constant occupation had aided her 
in forgetting many a soul-liarrowing hour, she sought employ- 
ment, and notwithstanding Mercedes'^s protest and appeals to 
rest after her long life of industry, she superintended the 
household affairs, and found respect and obedience from the 
servants, who were subject to the strict but considerate disci- 
pline of her domestic scepter, and the regard she had once 
disdained in a spirit of arrogance she now accepted as a soul- 
refreshing need to her so long desolated heart. 

Mercedes treated her with the affectionate tenderness of a 
daughter, and out in the world there roved a being who had 
played on the pp.rterre of Schillingscourt with her boy and re- 
mained his faithful friend unto death. She had learned to 
love him as if he were a brother to him sleeping in the cold 
earth away beyond the sea. 

Baron Schilling had sojourned in Scandinavia the past two 
years. It seemed impossible for him to inhale German air 
while the chains that bound two beings in a wretched union 
were still unbroken. All that hate and a revengeful nature 
could devise was done by the baroness during these distressing 
negotiations. She made every effort in her power to keep 
Schillingscourt, and was strongly supported in various ways in 
her laudable attempt to restore the usurped proj)erty to its 
rightful owners, the Church.'’^ But she did not succeed. The 
baron held receipts for enormous sums paid on the mortgaged 
property, and these were the strongholds that restored and 
redeemed the Schilling homestead from Steinbruck claims and 
frustrated ecclesiastical connivance. 

At last the bitter contest was ended, and he was free! A 
note from the convent informed him “ that the soul, led astray 
by selfish and evil infiuences, had returned to its sacredly 
peaceful retreat, to look no more upon the sinful enticements 
of the world. 

Her holy mission accomplished, the lamb and all its 
worldly goods led back to its “ real home,^^ Miss Von Eiedt 
entered^ipon the reward she had earned. 

The day the baroness took the consecrating veil the canoness 
also became a nun, and saw hovering over her, in the near 
future, an abbess's glory, grown out of her fanatical fidelity. 
Baron Schilling began a oorr^pondence with Mrs. Lucian as 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


239 


soon as he went away; he was anxious to keep the connecting 
link \ with home unbroken during his wanderings abroad; he 
had written, and the old lady had been quite prompt at first 
in answering his letters, but household interests, or some 
trifling indisposition of one of the children, caused the post- 
ponement of replying for days, sometimes until Mercedes was 
induced to take up the correspondence; and strange to say, 
the good old lady appeared to be oblivious to the fact that the 
letters from Sweden and Norway were not handed her for 
general perusal as at first, but a page turned down, and only 
such things as might be of interest pointed out; and after 
awhile the good old soul didn^t get to see the letters any more 
at all — had to content herself with such blushing and stammer- 
ing information as the youi^ lady felt in duty bound to com- 
municate to grandmamma. 

In the meantime the baron had gathered fresh laurels. The 
painting that had been imperiled by a woman’s revengeful 
spirit had created quite a furore; and — so the report said — 
was purchased by a New York nabob for a most exorbitant 
price. He wrote that he was industriously engaged in collect- 
ing motive ideas to bring home with him. 

But, alas! just at this time the Franco-Prussian war broke 
out, and some weeks passed without a Word from the wan- 
derer. Then a letter arrived from France, stating that Ger- 
man patriotism had driven him upon the enemy’s heels, and 
there was no such thing as home for him as long as his coun- 
try was in arms. 

Since that time a dark cloud enveloped Villa Valmaseda. 
Mercedes only smiled when a crumpled letter or a hastily 
penciled card arrived. But when news of a battle came she 
mounted her horse, and chased through wind and weather into 
the solitude of the woods, and after an absence of hours re- 
turned with dripping habit and a worn and jaded horse. She 
suffered tortures during these times of anxious uncertainty, 
but not by a word did her proud woman’s heart betray its 
agony. 

But this season of suffering was also at an end. Peace was 
declared, and hearts blossomed anew with relief. The joyous 
news came with the glowing spring-time, and all nature vi- 
brated in jubilant sympathy. 

The sky above Villa Valmaseda was also bright and blue 
again. It was the fairest season of all the year. The birds 
sung in the park, and the May breezes caressed the tender 
young foliage, and kissed the climbing rose-trees into a million 
budding blushes, and the house stood in a halo of light and 


240 


IN THE SCHILLIHGSCOURT. 


color. The inmates i)assed each other with beaming faces,’ 
the whole atmosphere was permeated with something akin to 
hopeful expectation, notwithstanding the shadow that had 
crept in, with a painful contrast to the new-born glory. 

Mercedes had received a letter from St. Petersburg. Lucille 
had wu’itten — after a silence of three years — that in conse- 
quence of a cold she had, strange to say, ‘‘ been annoyed by a 
stupidly abominable hemorrhage of the lungs, and the doctor 
had insisted that she must give up her successful engagement 
— 'only for a few weeks, of course — in Eussia, and recuperate 
in a milder climate; hence she had decided to pass a forced 
vacation, ‘‘on this occasion,’^ with her children, but, being 
short of funds just then, Mercedes might send enough to make 
a few j)urchases before starting on her journey. 

She had arrived, but ‘‘so fatigued from that wearisome 
journey,^'’ that she had to be carried to her room. At sight 
of this little mortal, hovering at the verge of the grave, Mrs. 
Lucian conquered the grief for her son, aroused anew by his 
widow^s presence — as well as the absolute aversion she had for 
her. Mercedes was also unremitting in her care for her 
brother’s bequest. All allusion to the past was studiously 
avoided by them, but Lucille chatted constantly about her 
brilliant public career — the “ idol of the whole civilized 
world ” — ^lier conquests and success, in the pitifully firm con- 
viction that she would shortly be able to leave the “intolera- 
bly tiresome villa, situated in such a remote corner of creation 
that one couldn’t scare enough interesting people together to 
make a tea-party. ” 

It was a glorious J une morning. Lucille had been carried 
out upon the second terrace, away from the draughts — for the 
little feet that had balanced the dainty butterfly figure before 
an applauding multitude for three years, now refused to sup- 
port the frail child-like form even for two steps. A canvas 
was erected above her couch to protect her from the glaring 
sunlight. A coquettish mortal to the last, she lay there 
wrapped in lace and satin, her beauty defying the very ravages 
of death. 

“ I don’t. know, but it seems to me,” she whimpered, irrita- 
bly stirring her cup of chocolate, “ that the cook takes infinite 
delight in treating me to homeopathic doses. I can’t drink 
this miserable slop, and insist upon having coffee hereafter!” 

“ But coffee has been strictly prohibited,” Mrs. Lucian, 
senior, to whom this complaint was addressed, quietly re- 
marked. 

Oh, yes — ^prohibited!” the littl# woman retorted, mimick- 


^ IN THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 24l 

Ker mother-in-law^s tones, the fire of the old hatred light- 
ing ^up her eyes. “ Here in this pitiful house that word is 
constantly and invariably dinned at me by old and young. 
IVe got enough, more than enough of it! Enough to disgust 
me! And your doctors — Heaven have mercy on the block- 
heads — it is hard to tell which one is the biggest — don^t know 
enough even to cure a cold, and make such a serious fuss 
about it, a body might think it was going to rob me of my 
life — my young — my glorious — much to be envied life! Bah! 
Simpletons! And do, pray,^^ she added, feebly and excitedly, 
as Mrs. Lucian was about to leave her, ‘‘do me one little 
favor, and close that terrace door to Mercedeses room, and 
draw the curtains to, for all of mei^e 

She had a full view of the interior of a beautiful parterre 
apartment, on the wall of which hung a startlingly realistic 
painting. 

“ I was terrified often enough with that abominable Hugue- 
not scene while it stood on the easel in Baron Schillinges studio, 
without having it forever looming up like some inevitable fate 
before my eyes here. Mercedes must be crazy to spoil her 
otherwise tolerably decent room with such frightful pictures!’-’ 
She plucked a handful of the trailing roses within her reach 
on the terrace lattice, and picked them to pieces, scattering 
the leaves over her blue silk coverlet, then lifting herself to a 
half-reclining position, she cast a shower of the white leaves 
over her head, until they rested like snow-flakes upon the 
beautiful and carefully dressed curls. 

Not a trace of the indignation that filled Mrs. Lucian’s heart 
at this childish conduct was visible in her face; she conquered 
the contempt she felt for the dying woman, in recollecting the 
children to whom she had given life. 

“ I want Pauly here,” she grumbled, discontentedly. 

“ Deborah has taken her out walking, so you will have to 
wait a little while, but Jose will be here directly.” 

At this moment three equestrian figures came riding up 
through the park road-way, in the full enjoyment of their 
morning exercise. It was Mercedes, Jose, and the latter’s 
tutor. The lad sat his pony a picture of health and beauty, 
and Mrs. Lucian’s face beamed with happy pride, as the little 
fellow lifted and waved his hat gallantly when he saw her. 

“Why, the silly youngster is really trying to play the 
gentleman,” the peevish voice under the awning grumbled. 
“ But that’s your own fault, madame. The idea of letting an 
eight-year-old child manage a horse — ” 

“ He is ten years old/ ' 




m THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


My goodness! Are you forever telling me that to mak« 
me feel ancient? You can^t, that^s all there is about it! I 
am young and girlish, though a precocious youngster ten times 
as tall stood beside me and called me mamma! And in a few 
weeks I shall be in Berlin again, in spite of your countrified 
notions and the scientific prognostications of your wise doc- 
tors! Think you I canT succeed?^' 

Mrs. Lucian silently shrugged her shoulders, and tha sick 
woman plucked yet a few roses with her tremblingly weak 
hands, and placed them on her bosom and in her hair. 

‘‘Just see how coquettishly my lady Mercedes rides, she 
continued. “ What a pity the profound respect of that timid 
young tutor prevents him from observing it. If she knew how 
extremely unbecoming that blue habit is — ^bah! she never had 
any taste! And she persists in doing her sallow complexion 
up in it, day in, day out, until it is almost as threadbare as an 
office coat. But economy and simplicity is her hobby just 
now. I^d like to know what for? For Heaven^s sake! does 
she contemplate turning nun like that odious baroness?^'’ 

Mrs. Lucian hastened down the terrace steps to meet the 
equestrians, and taking a letter from her pocket she waved it 
joyously toward Mercedes, who, at the sight, touched her horse 
lightly and galloped away from her companions. Her face 
was in a glow as she took the letter, opened it, and hastily 
glanced over the first lines, then bending toward Mrs. Lucian 
she whispered, in tones made uncertain with happy emotion : 

“ Baron Schilling will be with us this evening.-’^ 

The hands of the two women met for an instant in a mute 
clasp of comprehensive sympathy, but their glance spoke vol- 
umes. Then, with a friendly nod to the cross little lady on the 
terrace, she turned her horse into the road leading to the city 
and gave him the lines for speed. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

The intelligent animal knew where to carry his mistress; he 
had borne her over the same ground daily for a long while; 
along the broad highway, by the railroad depot, into the busy 
street, and then through a quiet cathedral square, turning 
eventually into the long narrow street where the familiar gate- 
way opened to the knowing creature^s whinny of horse- joy at 
arriving on the spot where he was received with such excellent 
care, and the petting of a favorite. 

As usual, at this hour, when Donna Mercedes was expected, 
the gate-way was opened hospitably wide, and with peculiarly 


IK THE SCHTLLiKGSCOURT. 


beating heart the lady rode into the shady twilight of the 

E ines^ To-day was probably the last time that she would be 
ere alone, as she had been every day for three years. Here- 
after — 

The groom approached to help her to alight. His face was 
in a broad grin, and he endeavored to disguise the conscious 
something beaming in his honest face. 

‘‘ Ah, you know the news?^^ Mercedes queried. 

‘‘Yes, my lady, and we are all wild with joy over it. Schil- 
lingscourt has had a long, lonesome time of it without the 
master. It’s awful to think of!” 

He led the horse to the stable, and Mercedes remained 
standing in front of the atelier and scanned her surroundings 
as far as the eye could trace. 

Would he be satisfied with the changes? The old, dilapi- 
dated Cloister gable was gone, and above the trees, some dis- 
tance from the site of the old house, rose a handsome slate 
roof. 

In selling the old place, Mrs. Lucian had disposed of it con- 
siderably below its absolute value, on the condition that the 
new owner agree not to build on the same location, nor within 
a certain radius of the wall that once connected these two 
buildings with the disreputable passage-way that brought dis- 
grace ujpon a race who had been above reproach for centuries. 
The strip of land upon which the monastery had stood, after 
some bargaining, became the property of Baron Schilling, who 
removed the somber-looking stone wall and replaced it with a 
graceful fence, in keeping with the elegant house and grounds 
of Schillingscourt; and the Column House stood, in all its 
Italian beauty, more imposing than ever beneath the gray- 
blue sky of its German home. The bristling old hedge no 
longer troubled the picturesque-loving eye; the estates were 
now divided by a pleasing palisade. All these improvements 
had been made under Mercedes’s supervision. Baron Schilling 
had transmitted his ideas and intentions to her by letter, and 
she had carried them out faithfully. 

The portrait that a doting father had sent over the sea to 
win German hearts had, indeed, been exquisitely beautiful, and 
the woman who came to Schillingscourt in mourning robes 
three years ago had also startled the eye with her loveliness. 
But her chilling reserve and haughty bearing, the great, im^ 
perious eyes that looked upon humanity so disdainfully, had 
caused people to stand coldly aloof. But to-day, with her 
riding-habit thrown over her arm, and hat pressed down over 
her eyes, the once somewhat sallow, southern complexion in 


^4 


IK THE SCHtLLiKGSCOURT. 

fresh northern glow, Mercedes was an indescribably attractivi 
being as she viewed the scene with tender solicitude. Would 
he be pleased? 

He wanted a cozy, home atmosphere about him. He 
wanted to find a home welcome! He was right. He was ever 
right. 

Well, all that expensive lace had vanished from those second- 
story windows. It had been sent to Coblentz to be auctioned 
off'with all the rest of the Steinbruck stuff. Every trifling 
thing that good Mamselle Birkner could not conscientiously 
call Schilling property — every stray bit of down, every little 
medicine-vial — had been religiously recorded and sent away. 

The drawings for the new furniture were the baron^s own 
conception, and he sent them to his trusty Birkner — but 
she would not move a step toward ordering anything without 
Mercedes’s advice and sanction. 

The great arched windows were now draped with damask 
that fell from its rings in soft, warm-colored folds, and the 
general aspect of the interior now began to be suggestive of its 
Venetian exterior, and partook of the character of the beauti- 
ful architecture. It would not be difficult to fancy that a 
proud daughter of Venice might step out from behind the. 
folds of that drapery. 

Perfect silence reigned. Mercedes wandered about the gar- 
den and park gathering a bouquet of simple wild flowers; how 
daintily she grouped them — ^here a buttercup and a wild rose, 
there a tiny spray of lilies of the valley and a sweet little blue 
forget-me-not, that grew on the edge of the water, and these 
encircled with feathery grasses, until a most artistic bouquet 
was formed of nothing but wild flowers. Who would have be- 
lieved that the haughty cotton princess would ever stoop to a 
common field-blossom? she who did not deign to give these 
humble children of nature one glance awhile back. And was 
this the despised German air that she stopped occasionally to 
inhale with a Jong inspiration, as if its gloriously invigorating 
fragrance had ever been the very life-giving element of her 
existence? 

Her bouquet was finished, and she returned to the atelier 
and tried to enter by the conservatory door. It was locked. 
She then, as she was in the habit of doing, entered the studio 
by the stairway. 

In this same little room, to which she had, by her presence 
in the Column House, banished the baron, she had passed 
many hours. She had answered all his letters on that little 
table over there by the window, and Mamselle Birkner or 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUET. 


245 


Hanna invariably had some refreshment awaiting her; to-day 
a dish of delicious strawberries stood temptingly -upon a little 
side-table. She fastened her habit to a chain at her belt, 
threw off her hat, and was oblivious in doing so of the splendid 
mass of hair that had become disarranged and fell over her 
shoulders down below her waist. Taking the dish of berries 
in one hand and the bouquet in the other, she went down the 
winding staircase to the studio. 

For an instant she was only the solicitous housekeeper; she 
glanced about carefully to assure herself of its neatness and 
order, and to see whether the curtains were arranged just as 
Hanna said he loved to have them. 

He had particularly commended his work-room to his 
correspondent’s care, and she had guarded it as a sacred trust. 
Every trace of the damage a vengeful hand had wrought was 
long since erased. The fountains played their cooling, refresh- 
ing music in the conservatory, the palms had developed to 
threatening proportions, that looked dangerous for the glass 
roof, and many a bud among the rich foliage of the plants 
held its bead to the light with a crimson blush in early bloom. 
Mercedes moved a stand near the easel, and placed the dish of 
berries thereon, then filled a Venetian vase with water and set 
it beside the dish. With timid hesitation she took from her 
pocket a small unassuming case. 

She touched the ^spring, and gazed a moment upon the 
portrait of a girlish face with its melancholy proud eyes; then 
with a smile she buried it in the very heart of the bouquet, 
and it lay hidden under trembling grasses that were not con- 
scious that they trailed softly over the sweet confession — a 
woman'^s entire change of heart. 

The pretty arrangement was a perfect success. Her eyes 
beamed with satisfaction as she surveyed the little table; then 
she turned their glance about the room once more, and busied 
herself in rearranging matters merely for pastime. In draw- 
ing one of the panther rugs a little closer to a cozy arm-chair, 
the hair that had become loosened fell over her bosom. 

She lifted her arms to fasten it up. 

‘‘My sweet one, my darling, how you delight me!^^ re- 
sounded in rapturous tones through the studio. 

She started up with a cry, but she felt herself clasped in a 
passionate embrace, and a sun^brown, deeply expressive coun- 
tenance, with a pair of glowing blue eyes, gazed entranced into 
her own. 

With an irresistible impulse she cast her arms about his 
neck, and permitted him to cover her face with kisses, but the 


346 


IK THE SCIIILLIKGSCOURT. 


next moment she strove to escape, and poutingly remarked; 
‘‘Wicked man! this is an unpardonable advantage you have 
taken — in a moment of surprise — 

“ What, Mercedes, in a moment of surprise he asked, 
tenderly, and without releasing her. “ Has a moment of sur- 
prise made you mine?^’’ He laughed merrily, and the walls 
re-echoed the sound with a joyous ring. “Darling, do you 
seriously want me to express in fond words that which we have 
read between the lines of our letters for so long?^^ 

“ Indeed not. I know that you love me, dearly and truly, 
and with all your honest, loyal German heart, she replied, 
with tender solemnity, and the flashing eyes grew shy with the 
affection that makes woman so unspeakably attractive in her 
submissive love. 

“ Mercedes!^’ he whispered, drawing her into the full light 
from the studio window, “ let me look at you. This is not 
the same Mercedes who once inspired both passion and aversion 
with her native duality of angel and fiend — who said such 
wicked things with such annihilating looks — 

“ Hush, hush! Do you now comprehend that I acted in 
self-defense against the conquering, fish-blooded German 
Her face was hidden on his breast in speaking. 

“ Oh, my poor, poor blinded Madonna!^-’ he exclaimed, 
looking with roguish dismay at the case where the badly treat- 
ed Madonna had been looked away. “ Those eyes were beauti- 
ful after all.'’^ 

Mercedes looked up in surprise. 

“ Yes, the eyes were yours, Mercedes, taken from the little 
portrait.-’^ She glanced covertly at her bouquet. “Oh, I 
know where to find my property !^^ he laughed. “ I saw you 
pick the flowers; I was hidden behind the Japanese screen yon- 
der when you came in, and only feared the violent beating of 
my heart would betray me. I noticed how pityingly you 
smiled at the thirteen-year-old girl, but you will see those same 
girlish, earnest eyes in some of my best pictures; she appeared 
there against my own volition. Then you came in person, and 
like some satanella entered my soul; I hated the eyes that were 
all flame, and yet so freezingly repellant even while worshiped. 
In a moment of incomprehensible wrath I blotted out the 
mocking sphinx that vexed my being. Rapturous change! A 
tender woman now, and she is mine, my very own; but Mer- 
cedes, will you be so in all things?'" With a deep-drawn sigh 
he released her from his arms, and added: “There is some- 
thing yet unsaid which must be spoken. You, Mercedes, live 
in an enchanted castle, and float in a life of faiiy-like luxury. 


IN THE SCHILLINGSCOUET. 


24 ' 


are accustomed to scatter your gold with lavish bauds; but 
fervently as I love you, if in this respect you hope to remain 
Donna de Valmaseda, it were better to part at once/^ 

"‘You do not know me/ ^ said she, taking his hand. “I 
wiii eat only the bread provided by my husband; wear only 
the garments that are from his hand; and for this I will en- 
deavor to be the worthy mistress of Schillingscourt — a consid- 
erate wife. Ask good Birkner, she can tell you that I possess 
some faculty for making home comfortable. But, Arnold, 
that is not all to which my woman^s heart aspires. I desire to 
be the artist’s companion, with the freedom of your work-room 
— one with whom you can discuss your ideas and ambitions. 
When I am the wife of a famous man I want to feel that I 
may be justly considered his intellectual — ” 

With a blissful embrace he closed her mouth with kisses. 
Now for a visit to our future home,” said he. ‘‘ I arrived 
early this morning, and have been dehghting myself with a 
view of the improvements and your appreciative comprehen- 
sion of my plans.” 

Walking toward the Column House, under the sycamores 
that had witnessed so much of joy and sorrow in their time, 
tAe happy couple talked about the future, Jose and Pauly, 
Mrs. Lucian and Lucille, when Mercedes suddenly exclaimed: 

‘‘ But we will visit the villa daily, to see grandmamma and 
the children, when you are ready to throw aside your work. 
We can walk over toward evening — then you will be my 
guest.” 

‘‘ To be sure — a frugal supper — ” 

“Oh, certainly! We will sup out on the terrace, in real 
economical style. But I have a treasure in my parlor — and 
it shall always remain there — ^that will prove more of a magnet 
to attract you to the villa, after you have seen it, than my 
pleading, I fancy. ” 

“ That admits of a doubt, if you please — ” 

“ No, mark me!” 

He laughed heartily, and led her up to the entrance of the 
Column House. The door flew open as if by magic, and 
Mamselle Birkner and Hanna met them with solemnly happy 
faces. Good old Birkner ’s eyes were overflowing with tears; 
she wore a handsome new cap that “ Arnold ” — your pardon 
— the “ master,” had fetched her from abroad; but instead of 
the ceremonious speech of congratulation, so carefully consid- 
ered, and of Avhich not a word would form on her bps for emo- 
tion now, she pointed mutely to the flower-strewn and gar- 
landed comdora 


248 


m THE SCHILLINGSCOURT. 


'‘My Birkner possesses a Cassandra-like intuition/^ the 
baron remarked;, roguishly, but still deeply affected. " She 
knew the hour and the coming of a bride. Then he took 
the little roly poly woman in his arms and kissed her, as he 
had done when as a motherless lad she was both nurse and 
friend to him. I^ot to the bride^s apartments, not to the 
grand rooms overlooking the terrace, did the baron first con- 
duct his bride. The doors to the portrait-gallery stood wide 
open; here also the flowers were scattered, at the feet of those 
square-browed, knightly figures, and the picture of old Baron 
von Schilling was hung with evergreen. 

The son placed his arm around the sweet woman at his side, 
and led her to the gallant soldierly form that gazed at them 
with such life-like, glowing eyes, and said: “Here she is, 
father, Lucianos daughter — ' the sacrifice of poor Isaac ^ has 
been recompensed a thousand-fold — are you now satisfied 

The busy stream of humanity without passed up and down, 
peering through the artistic iron railing to admire again and 
again the picturesque scene encompassing the magnificent 
fa9ade of the Column House; but none imagined that at this 
moment most inti’icate events and destinies had reached a 
happy solution at Schillingscourt. 


THISENn* 





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E. About. 

IMf A New Lease of Life . . 


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Mrs. Leitb Adams. 

1845 Aunt Hepsy’s Foundli!ig*25 


Author 


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1398 Pirates of the Prairies. . . ^ 

1400 Queen of the Savannah, 25 

1401 The Buccaneer Chief. ... 25 

1402 The Smuggler Hero 25 

1404 The Rebel Chief 25 

1650 The Trail-Hunter 25 

1658 The Pearl of the Andes.. 25 

1672 The Insjurgent Chief 25 

1688 The Trapper s Daughter 25 

1690 The Tiger-Slayer 25 

1692 Border Rifles 25 

1700 The Flying Horseman... 25 

1701 The Freebooters 25 

1714 The White Scalper., — 25 
1723 The Guide of the Desert. 25 
17^ Last of the Aucas. ...... 25 

1734 Missouri Outlaws 25 

1736 Prairie Flower 26 

1740 Indian Scout 26 

1741 Stronghand 2K 

1742 Bee-Hunters 26 

1744 Stoneheart 26 

1748 The Gold-Seekers 26 

1752 Indian Chief 25 

1756 Red Track 25 

1761 The Treasure of Pearls.. 25 
1768 Red River Half-Breed... 25 


of <«Addie’9 
band.** 

888 Addie’s Husband; or, 
Through Clouds to Sun- 
shine 25 

604 My Poor Wife *25 

1046 Jessie 35 

Max Adeler. 

1860 Random Shots *25 

1669 Elbow Room — *25 

Author of **A Fatal Dower.’* 
878 Phyllis’s Probation 25 

Author of A Golden Bar.” 
488 Betwixt My Love and Me= *25 

Mis- 


Author of “A Great 
take.” 

688 Cherry,., 25 

1040 Clarissa’s Ordeal 26 

1137 Prince Charming 25 

1187 Suzanne., .... 25 

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Love-Story.” 

328 A Woman’s Love-Story., 26 

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Sake.” 

nOO Leonie; or. The Sweet 
Street Singer of New 
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Hamilton Aide. 

88S Introduced to Society.,. *26 

Gttstave Aimard. 

J84i The Trappers of Arkan 

sas.,-,.,,o ^ 

The Adventurers, 35 


Grant Allen. 

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1221 “ The Tents of Shem ”... 25 

1783 The Great Taboo .*26 

1870 What’s Bred in the Bone*36 
1908 Dumaresq's Daughter... *26 
20^ Duchess of Powy8land..*3i 

Mrs. Alexander, 

6 Tha Admiral’s Ward. .. 36 
17 The Wooing O’t......... 25 

62 The Executor. 25 

189 Valerie’s Fate. ^ 

229 Maid, Wife, or Widow?,. 25 

236 Which Shall it Be* SS 

339 Mrs. Vereker’s Courier 

Maid........... 25 

490 A Second Life..... 25 

564 At Bay.... 26 

794 Beaton’s Bargain 28 

797 Look Before You Leap.. 96 

805 The Freres 95 

806 Her Dearest Foe.c»..^.« 86 


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THE SEASIDE LIBRART. 


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814 TheHentafjeof Langdale 35 


816 Ralph Wilton’s Weird... 85 

900 By Woman’s Wit 25 

997 Forging the Fetters, and 
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?.064 Mona’s Choice 25 

’2057 A Life Interest 25 

2189 A Crooked Path 25 

ilG9 A False Scent 25 

S367 Heart Wins 25 

1459 A Woman’s Heart 25 

1571 Blind Fate 25 

8j. 68 What Gold Can Not Buy. 25 


Mrs, Altlerdice. 

1682 An Interesting Case. .... 25 
Alison. 

481 The House That Jack 
Built *25 

Hans Christian Andersen* 
1814 Andersen’s Fairy Tales.. 25 
W. P, Andrews. 

1172 India and Her Neighbors*25 
F. Anstey. 

59 Vice Versa 25 

225 The Giant’s Robe 25 

503 The Tinted Venus. A 

Farcical Romance 25 

819 A Fallen Idol 25 

1616 The Black Poodle, and 
Other Tales 25 

G. W. Appleton. 

1846 A Terrible Legacy *25 

Edwin Lester Arnold. 
1686 The Wonderful Advent- 
ures of Phra the Phoe- 
nician 25 

T. S. Arthur. 

1837 Woman’s Trials *26 

1636 The Two Wives 25 

1638 Married Life *25 

1640 Ways of Providence *25 

1641 Home Scenes *25 

1644 Stories for Parents *25 

1649 Seed-Time and Harvest. *25 

1652 Words for the Wise *25 

1664 Stories for Young House- 
keepers *25 

1657 Lessons In Life *25 

1658 Off-Hand Sketches *25 

2164 Ten Nights in a Bar-room 

and What I Saw There. 25 


Sir Samuel Baker. 

967 Rifle and Hound in Cey- 
lon 25 

698 Eight Years Wandering 

in Ceylon 26 

1602 Cast Up by the Sea 26 


K. M. Ballantyne° 

89 The Red Eric 35 

95 The Fire Brigade 25 

96 Erliug the Bold *26 

772 Gascoyne, the Sandal- 

Wood Trader 25 

1514 Deep Down 25 


Hon ore De Balzac. 


776 P6 re Go riot 25 

1128 Cousin Pons 26 

1318 The Vendetta 25 

S. Bariiig-Gould. 

787 Court Royai *25 

878 Little Tu’penny *26 

1122 Eve *26 

1201 Melialah ; A Story of the 

Salt Murslies *25 

1697 Red Spider *28 

1711 The Pennycomequicks...*25 

1763 John Herring *25 

1779 Arminell *26 

1821 Urith *36 

Frank Barrett. 

986 The Great Hesper 26 

1138 A Recoiling Vengeance.. 25 

1245 Fettered for Life *25 

1461 Smuggler’s Secret 25 

1611 Between Life and Death. 96 
1750 Lieutenant Barnabas.... 26 

J, M. Barrie. 

1896 My Lady Nicotine 25 

1977 Better Dead ^ 

2099 Auld Lieht Idylls 25 


2100 A Window in Thrums... ^ 

2101 When a Man's Single. . . ^ 


Basil. 


344 “The Wearing of the 

Green ’’ 

685 A Drawn Game 


♦96 

*96 


G. M. Bayneo 

1618 Gala.ski. .*96 

Anne Beale. 

188 Idonea 25 

199 The Fisher Village 

Alexander Bcgg. 

1605 Wrecks in the Sea of 
Life *35 

By the Writer of “Belle’s 
Letters.” 

2091 Vashti and Esther 96 

E. B. Benjamin. 

1706 Jim, the Parson *26 

1720 Our Roman Palace 

A. Beurimo. 

1624 Vic *35 


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£. F. Benson. 

S105 Dodo 25 

£. Berber. 

1646 Charles Auchester. . « . . . 25 
£. Berthel. 

1589 The Sergeant’s Legacy.. *25 

Walter Besaut. 

97 All in a Garden Fair 25 

J37 Uncle Jack *25 

140 A Glorious Fortune *^ 

146 Love Finds the Way.and 
Other Stories. By Besant 


and Rice 


230 Dorothy Forster.. . 

25 

884 In Luck at Last... 


541 Uncle Jack 

25 

651 “ Self or Bearer ”. 

*25 

882 Children of Qibeon 25 

904 The Holy Rose 

85 

906 'I’he World Went 

Very 

Well Then 

25 

980 To Call Her Mine.. 

25 

1055 Katharine Regina., 

*25 


1065 Herr Paulus: His Rise, 
His Greatness, and His 

Fall *25 

1143 The Inner House *25 

1151 For Faith and Freedom.. *25 
1240 'I’he Bell of St. Paul’s. . . .*26 


1247 The Lament of Dives.... 25 
1378 They Were Married. By 
Walter Besant and Jas. 

Rice 25 

1413 Armorel of Lyonesse 25 

1462 Let Nothing You Dismay 25 
1530 When the Ship Comes 
Home. By Besant and 

Rice. 25 

1655 The Demoniac 25 

1861 St. Katherine’s by the 
Tower 25 


M. Betham^Edwards. 

273 Love and Mirage ; or,The 
Waiting on an Island... *25 
579 TheFlow’erof Doom,and 

Other Stories *25 

594 Doctor Jacob *25 

1023 Next of Kin — Wanted... *25 
1407 The Parting of the Ways*25 

1500 Disarmed *25 

1643 For One and the World . .*25 
1627 A Romance of the Wire. *25 

Jeanie Gwynne Bottany. 

1810 A Laggard in Love *25 

Bjorastjerne Bjorason. 

1385 Arne 25 

1388 The Happy 3oy.. 25 


William BBacko 

1 Yolande 25 

18 Shandon Bells ^ 

21 Sunrise: A Story of These 

Times 25 

23 A Princess of Thule ^ 

39 lu Silk Attire ^ 

44 Macleod of Dare 2a 

49 Tliat Beautiful Wretch.. % 

50 The Strange Adventures 

of a Phaeton 25 

70 White Wings: A Yacht- 
ing Romance 25 

78 Madcap Violet 25 

81 A Daughter of Heth.. .. ^ 

124 Tliree Feathers 2l 

125 The Monarch of Mincing 

Lane 25 

126 Kilrneny ... 25 

138 Green Pastures and Pic- 
cadilly 25 

265 Judith Shakespeare: Her 
Love Affairs and Other 

Adventures 25 

472 The Wise Women of In- 
verness *25 

627 White Heather 25 

898 Romeo and Juliet: A Tale 
of Two Young Fools. . . 25 

962 Scabina Zernbra 25 

1096 The Strange Adventures 

of a House-Boat 25 

1132 In Far Lochabor 25 

1227 The Penance of John 

Logan 26 

1259 Nanciebel: A Tale of 

Stratford-on-Avon 25 

1268 Prince Fortunatus 25 

1389 Oliver Goldsmith 25 

1394 The Four Macnicols, and 

Other Tales 25 

1426 An Adventure in Thule.. 25 

1505 Lady Silverdale’s Sweet- 

heart 26 

1506 Mr. Pisistratus Brown, 

M. P 25 

1725 Stand Fast, Craig-Roy- 

ston! 26 

1892 Donald Ross of Heimra.. 25 

It. Do Blackmave» 

67 Lorna Doone 86 

427 'J'he Remarkable History 
of Sir Thomas Upmore, 

Bart., M. P 25 

615 Mary Anei’ley 25 

625 Erema; or. My Father’s 
Sin 96 

629 Cripps, the Carrier.. ... 2S 

630 Cradock Nowell ... ^ 

631 Christowell 25 

632 Clara Vaughan...... .... 95 

633 The Maid of Sker 88 

636 Alice Lorraine 86 


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966 Springhaven S6 

S967 Kit and Kitty 

Isa Blagdcn. 

•5106 The Woman I Loved, and 
the Woman Who Loved 
Me 26 

C. BSatherwick. 

161 The Ducie Diamonds *25 

Edgar Janes Bliss. 

?i02 The Peril of Oliver Sar- 
gent 25 

Frederick Boyle* 

856 The Good Hater *26 

Miss M. £. Braddon* 

85 Lady Audley’s Secret... 25 

66 Phantom Fortune 25 

74 Aurora Floyd 25 

110 Under the Red Flag 25 

153 The Golden Calf 25 

204 Vixen 25 

211 The Octoroon 25 

234 Barbara; or, Splendid 

Misery 25 

263 An Ishmaelite 25 

815 The Mistletoe Bough. 
Christmas, 1884. Edited 
by Miss M. E. Braddon. 25 

434 Wyllard's Weird 25 

478 Diavola; or. Nobody’s 

Daughter 25 

480 Married in Haste. Edi- 
ted by Miss M. E. Brad- 
don 25 

487 Put to the Test. Edited by 

Miss M. E. Braddon .... 25 

488 Joshua Haggard’s 

Daughter 25 

489 Rupert Godwin 25 

495 Mount Royal 25 

496 Only a Woman. Edited 

by Miss M. E. Braddon. 25 

497 The Lady’s Mile 25 

498 Only a Clod 25 

499 The Cloven Foot 25 

Sll A Strange World 25 

515 Sir Jasper’s Tenant 25 

524 Strangers and Pilgrims. 25 

629 The Doctor’s Wife 25 

542 Fenton’s Quest 25 

644 Cut by the County; or, 

Grace Darnel 25 

648 A Fatal Marriage, and 

The Shadow in the Cor- 
ner 25 

649 Dudley Carleon ; or. The 

Brother’s Secret, and 
George Caulfield’s Jour- 
ney 26 

862 Hostages to Fortune. .. 25 
553 Birds of Prey 26 


554 Charlotte's Inheritance. 
(Sequel to “ Birds of 

Prey ”) 25 

557 To the Bitter End 25 

559 Taken at the Flood 25 

560 Asphodel 28 

561 Just as I am; or, A Liv- 

ing Lie 28 

567 Dead Men’s Shoes 25 

570 John March mont’s Leg- 
acy *25 

618 The Mistletoe Bough. 
Christmas, 1885. Edited 
by Miss M. E. Braddon. 25 
840 One Thing Needful; or, 

The Penalty of Fate... *25 

881 Mohawks *25 

890 The Mistletoe Bough. 
Christmas, 1886. Edited 
by Miss M. E. Braddon.. *26 
943 Weavers and Weft; or, 

“ Love that Hath Us in 

His Net” *26 

947 Publicans and Sinners; 

or, Lucius Davoren *26 

1036 Like and Unlike 26 

1098 The Fatal Three 25 

1211 The Day Will Come ^ 

1411 Whose Was the Hand?. . 25 

1664 Dead Sea Fruit *25 

1893 The W orld. Flesh and the 
Devil 26 

Annie Bradshaw. 

706 A Crimson Stain *26 

Charlotte M. Braeine, Au- 
thor of “ Dora Thorne.” 

19 Her Mother’s Sin 26 

51 Dora Thorne ^ 

54 A Broken Wedding-Ring 25 

68 A Queen Amongst 

Women 25 

69 Madolin’s Lover 25 

73 Redeemed by Love; or, 

Love's Victory 25 

76 Wife in Name Only; or, 

A Broken Heart 25 

79 Wedded and Parted 25 

92 Lord Lynne’s Choice 25 

148 Thorns and Orange- 

Blossoms 25 

190 Romance of a Black Veil 25 
194 “So Near, and Yet So 

Far!” 26 

220 Which Loved Him Best? 25 
237 Repented at Leisure. .. . 25 

244 A (4reat Mistake 25 

246 A Fatal Dower 26 

249 “ Prince Charlie’s Daugh- 

ter;” or. The Cost of 
Her Love 25 

250 Sunshine and Roses ; or, 

Diana’s Discipline 


Books marked, thus * are ai present inAUigator co^erSt, 


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254 The Wife’s Secret, and 

Fair but False. .... 25 

278 For Life and Love ^ 

883 The Sin of a Lifetime: 

or, Vivien’s Atonement 25 
285 The Gambler’s Wife ^ 

291 Love’s Warfare 25 

292 A Golden Heart 25 

296 A Rose in Thorns 25 

289 The Fatal Lilies, and A 

Bride from the Sea 25 

300 A Gilded Sin, and A 

Bridge of Love 25 

303 Ingledew House, and 
More Bitter than Death 25 
804 In Cupid’s Net 25 

305 A Dead Heart, and Lady 

Gwendoline’s Dream... 25 

306 A Golden Dawn, and 

Love for a Day 25 

307 Two Kisses, and Like no 

Other Love 25 

308 Beyond Pardon.; 25 

822 A Woman’s Love-Story'. 25 

323 A Willful Maid 25 

335 The White Witch 25 

352 At Any Cost 25 

411 A Bitter Atonement 25 

430 A Bitter Reckoning 25 

433 My Sister Kate 25 

459 A Woman’s Temptation. 25 

460 Undor a Shadow 25 

461 His Wedded Wife 25 

465 The Earl s Atonement. .. 25 

466 Between Two Loves 25 

467 A Struggle for a Ring. . . 25 

469 Lady Darner’s Secret. ... 25 

470 Evelyn’s Folly 25 

471 Thrown on the World... 25 
476 Between Two Sins; or. 

Married in Haste. 25 

516 Put Asunder; or. Lady 
Castlemaine’s Divorce. 25 

518 The Hidden Sin 25 

519 James Gordon’s Wife. . . 25 
547 A Coqiiette’s Conquest.. 25 

576 Her Martyrdom 25 

626 A Fair Mystery; or. The 

Perils of Beauty 25 

628 Wedded Hands. 25 

677 Griselda 25 

741 The Heiress of Hilldrop; 
or, The Romance of a 

Young Girl 25 

746 For Another’s Sin : or, A 

Struggle for Love 25 

*55 Margery Daw 25 

1b9 In Shallow Waters 25 

778 Society’s Verdict 25 

792 Set in Diamonds 25 

807 If Love Be Love 25 

821 T h e World Between 

Them 25 

822 A Passion Flower 25 


829 The Actor’s Ward 25 

853 A True Magdalen 25 

854 A Woman’s Error ^ 

908 A Willful Young Woman 25 

922 Marjorie ^ 

923 At War With Herself.. . . 26 

924 ’Twixt Smile and Tear... SS 

927 Sweet Cymbeline 26 

9^ The False Vow; or, 

Hilda: or. Lady Hut- 
ton’s Ward 25 

928 Lady Hutton’s Ward; or, 

Hilda; or. The False 
Vow ■ . . . . 35 

928 Hilda; or. The False 

Vow; or, Lady Hutton’s 
W’ard 'is 

929 The Belle of Lynn; or. 

The Miller’s Daughter.. Wi 

931 Lady Diana’s Pride 

933 A Hidden Terror 25 

948 The Shadow of a Sin 25 

949 Claribel’s Love Story; or, 

Love’s Hidden Depths-. 135 

952 A Woman’s War 

953 Hilary’s Folly; or. Her 

Marriage Vow 

955 From Gloom to Sunlight; 

or. From Out the Gloom 25 
958 A Haunted Life ; or, Her 

Terrible Sin 25 

964 A Struggle for the Right 26 

968 Blossom and Fruit; or, 

Madame’s Ward 2f 

969 The Mystery of Colde 

Fell; or. Not Proven... 26 
973 The Squire’s Darling. . . 25 
975 A Dark Marriage Morn.. 25 

978 Her Second Love 25 

982 The Duke’s Secret 25 

985 On Her Wedding Morn, 
and The Mystery of the 

Holly-Tree 26 

988 The Shattered Idol, and 

Letty Leigh 25 

990 The Earl’s Error, and 

Arnold’s Promise. 26 

995 An Unnatural Bondage, 
and That Beautiful 

Lady 25 

1006 His Wife’s Judgment. ... 25 
1008 A Thorn in Her Heart. . 26 

1010 Golden Gates 26 

1012 A Nameless Sin 25 

1014 A Mad Love "25 

1031 Irene’s Vow 25 

1052 Signa’s Sweetheart 25 

1091 A Modern Cinderella 25 

1134 Lord Elesmere's Wife.. .. 25 
1155 Lured Away; or, The 
Story of a W^'edding- 
Ring, and The Heiress 

of Arne 25 

1179 Beauty 's Marriage 25 


Books marked thus * are at present i^-4AUigQit(^ covers. 


TBB SEASIDE LIBRARY, 


1185 A Fiery Orcleai. , . , , , , . , ?.! 

3186 Guelda « 

1195 Dumaresq’s Teiiiptatioiu. 20 

H885 Jenny 25 

1991 The Star of Love 25 

1328 Lord Lisle's Daughter. .. 25 
1338 A Woman's Vengeance. 25 

1343 Dream Faces 25 

1373 The Story of an Error.. 25 
1415 Weaker than a Woman. 2.1 
1444 The Queen of the County 25 
1628 Love Works Wonders. . . 25 

2010 Her Only Sin 25 

2011 A Fatal Wedding 25 

2012 A Bright Wedding-Day. . 25 

2013 One Against Many 25 

2014 One False Step 25 

2015 Two Fair Women 25 

2068 Lady Latimer’s Escape. 25 

Fredrika Bremer. 

187 The Midnight Sun 25 

Charlotte Bronte. 

15 Jane Eyre 25 

67 Shirley 25 

944 The Professor 25 


Rhoda Broughton. 

86 Belinda 25 

101 Second Thoughts 25 

327 Nancy 25 

64t) Mrs.Smith of Longmains 25 
758 “Good-bye, Sweet- 
heai’t!” 25 

765 Not Wisely, But Too Well 25 

767 Joan : 25 

768 Red as a Rose is She 25 

769 Cometh Up as a. Flower. 25 

862 Betty’s Visions *25 

894 Doctor Cupid 25 

1599 Alas! 25 

Louise de Briinoval. 

1686 Soeur Louise *25 

Robert Buchanan. 

145 “ Storm - Beaten God 

and The Man 25 

154 Annan Water *25 

181 The New Abelard *25 

268 The Martyrdom of Mad- 
eline *25 

898 Matt : A Tale of a Cara- 
van *25 

468 The Shadow of the Svvord’^25 
646 The Master of the Mine. *25 
892 That Winter Night; or. 

Love’s Victory 25 

1074 Stormy Waters *25 

1104 The Heir of Linne. ; *25 

1350 Love Me Forever 25 

1455 The Moment After *25 


■ — ^ "sssETJSL'ia 


John Bunysiiid 
1498 The Pilgrim’s Progress. . 26 
Captain Fred Burnaby. 


3^10 “ Our Radicals” *S5 

S'iS A Ride to Khiva 25 

384 On Horseback Through 
Asia Minor 25 


Jeltn Bioundelle-Buirton. 
913 The Silent Shore; or, 
Tlie Jlystery of St, 


James’ Park 35' 

Beatrice 61. Butt. 

13.54 Delicia *26 

E. Lasseter Bynner. 

1456 Niinport *26 

1460 Tritons 

l.iord Byron. 

719 Childe Harold s Pilgrim- • 

age 25 

E. Fairfax Byrrne. 

52i Entangled *25 

538 A Fair Country Maid... o*25 
Airs. Caddy. 

127 Adrian Bright *25 

Hall Caine. 

445 The Shadow of a Crime. 25 
520 She's All the World to 

Me 25 

12.34 3’he Deemster 25 

1255 The Bondman ^5 

2079 A Son of Hagar ^ 

Alona Caird. 

1699 The Wing of Azrael *26 

Ada Cambridge. 

1.583 A Marked Man 26 

1967 My Guardian *^ 

2139 The Three Miss Kings. . . ^ 


Airs. H. Lovett Cameron. 


595 A North Country Maid.. 25 

796 In a Grass Country ^ 

891 Vera Nevill; or. Poor 

Wisdom’s Chance *25 

912 Pui e Gold 25 

963 Worth Winning ^ 

1025 Daisy’s Dilemma 25 

1028 A Devout Lover; or,* A 

Wasted Love 25 

1970 A Life’s Mistake 25 

tS04 The Lodge by the Sea... 25 

1205 A Lost "Wife 25 

1236 Her Father’s Daughter. . 26 
1261 Wild George’s Daughter. 

1290 Tlie Cost of a Lie... 25 

1292 Bosk’' Dell *25 

1782 A Dead Past *^ 


1819 Neck or N othing, *^ 


Books marked thus * are <nt vresent inn^Migator covers,^ 


POCKET EDITION. 


I^ady Colin Campbell. 

1325 Darell Blake *25 


Victor Clierbuliee* 

1516 Samuel Brohl& Co. *36 


Koea Noucliette Cavey. 
215 Not Like Other Girls... 25 
396 Robert Ord’s Atonement 25 
561 Barbara Heathcote's 
1 

6013 For Lilia’s ’ ’.’.V. 25 

930 Uncle Max 25 

932 Queenie’s Whim 25 

934 Wooed and Married 25 

936 Nellie s Memories 25 

961 Wee Wifie 25 

1033 Esther: A Story for Girls 25 

1064 Only the Governess 25 

1135 Aunt Diana 25 

1194 The Search for Basil 

Lynd hurst 25 

1208 Merle’s Crusade 25 

1545 Lover or Friend? 25 

1879 Mary St. John 25 

1965 Averil 25 

1966 Our Bessie . . 25 

1968 Heriot’s Choice 25 

William Carleton. 

1493 Willy Reilly 25 

1552 Shane Fadh's Wedding.. 25 

1553 LarryMcParland’s Wake 25 

1554 The Party Fight and 

Funeral 25 

1556 The Midnight Mass 25 

1557 Phil Purcel 25 

15.58 An Ii-ish Oath 25 

1560 Going to Maynooth 25 

1561 Phelim O’Toole’s Court- 

ship 25 

1562 Dominick, the Poor 

Scholar 25 

1564 Neal Malone 25 

Alice ComynsCarr. 

671 Paul Crew’s Story *25 

Lewis Carroll. 

492 Alice’s Adventures in 
Wonderland. Illustrated 

by John Tenniel 25 

789 Through the Looking- 
Glass, and What Alice 
Found There. Illustra- 
ted by John Tenniel. .. 25 

Cervantes. 

1578 Don Quixote 25 

L. W. Champney. 

1408 Bourbon Lilies *25 

Erckinann^Chatrian. 

3)39 The Polish Jew. (Trans- 
lated from the French 
byCaroline A. Merighi.) 26 


Mrs. C. M. Clarke. 

1801 More True than Truthful*26 


W. 111. Clemens. 

1544 Famous Funny Fellows. *86 
Mrs. W. K. Cliflbrd. 

546 Mrs. Keith’s Crime 25 

2104 Love Letters of a World- 
ly Woman 26 

J. Maclaren Cobban. 

485 Tinted Vapours *26 

1279 Master of His Fate *25 

1511 A Reverend Gentleman. *86 


John Coleman. 

504 Curly : An Actor’s Story 25 

C. R. Coleridge. 


1689 A Near Relation. *26 

Ileatrice Callensie. 

1352 A Double Marriage ’■’26 

Mabel Collins. 

749 Lord Vanecourt’s Daugh- 
ter 25 

828 The Prettiest Woman in 

Warsaw 26 

1463 Ida: An Adventure in 
Morocco J® 

Wilkie Collins. 

52 Tlie New Magdalen 25 

102 The Moonstone 25 

167 Heart and Science ^ 

168 No Thoroughfare. By 

Dickens and Collins 25 

175 Love’s Random Shot, 

and Other Stories 26 

233 “ I Say No or, The 
Love-Letter Answered. 25 

508 The Girl at the Gate ^ 

591 The Queen of Hearts 25 

613 The Ghost’s Touch, and 
Percy and the Prophet. 25 
623 M}'^ Lady’s Money 25 

701 The Woman in White... 25 

702 Man and Wife 25 

764 The Evil Genius 2§ 

896 The Guilty River 25 

946 The Dead Secret 25 

977 The Haunted Hotel...., ^ 

1029 Armadale 26 

1095 The Legacy of Cain. .... 25 

1119 No Name 25 

1269 Blind Love ... 

1347 A Rogue’s Life 25 

1608 Tales of Two Idle Ap- 
prentices. By Dickens 


and Collins 25 


Bonks marked ihm * a**-®* rrresent JiMnator covers^ 


m THE SEASIDE LIBRARY. 



Sic J. Colquhotai!!' 

6M Primus in Indis 

14^ Every Inch a Soldier . .. .*25 

Lnc# Randall ComfoYtc 
€053 For Marjorie’s Sake. .... 25 
Hugh Conway. 

840 Called Back 25 

S51 The Daughter of the 
Stars, and Other Tales.. *25 

801 Dark Days 96 

302 The Blatchford Bequest. *25 

341 A Dead Man’s Face .*25 

602 Carriston’s Gift *25 

526 Paul Vargas, and Other 

Stories 25 

643 A Family Affair 25 

601 Slings and Arrows, and 

Other Stories. *25 

ni A Cardinal Sin.......... 25 

804 Living or Dead 25 

830 Bound by a Spell *25 

1853 All In One 25 

1084 Story of a Sculptor *25 

15^ Somebody’s Story *25 

J. Fenimorj Cooper. 

60 The Last of the Mohi- 
cans.... 25 

63 The Spy................. ^ 

809 The Pathfinder 25 

810 The Prairie 25 

818 The Pioneers; or, The 

Sources of the Susque- 
hanna 25 

849 The Two Admirals...... 25 

859 The Water-Witch 25 

861 The Red Rover 25 

373 Wing and Wing 25 

^ Homeward Bound; or. 

The Chase 25 

Home as Found. (Sequel 
to “Homeward Bound”) 25 
830 Wyandotte ; or. The Hut- 
ted Knoll 25 

385 The Headsman ; or. The 
Abbaye des Vignerons 25 

394 The Bravo 25 

897 Lionel Lincoln; or. The 
Leaguer of Boston. .... 25 
400 The Wept of Wish-Ton - 
Wish 25 

418 Afloat and Asnore... 25 

414 Miles Wallingford. (Se- 

quel to “ Afloat and 
Ashore”) 25 

415 The Ways of the Hour. . 25 

416 Jack Tier; or. The Flo**- 

idaReef.... 25 

419 TheChainbearer; or, The 

Littlepage Manuscripts 25 
480 Satanstoe ; or. The Little 
page Manuscripts 25 


421 The Redskins; or, In- 
dian and lujin. Being 
the conclusicn of the 


Littlepage Manuscripts €5 

422 Precaution 25 

423 The Sea Lions; or. The 

Lost Sealers 36 

424 Mercedes of Castile ; or, 

The Voyage to Cathay.. 25 

425 The ,Oak-Openings; or. 

The Bee-Hunter 25 

431 The Monikins 25 

1062 The Deerslayer; or. The 

First War-Path 25 

1170 The Pilot 25 

Marie CorelSL 

1068 Vendetta ! or. The Story 

of Cne Forgotten. ... . . 25 

1131 Thelma 25 

1329 My Wonderful W'ifel.... ^ 

1663 Wormwood 25 

2089 The Hired Baby. ........ ^ 

2132 Ardath ^ 

2136 A Romance of Two 
Worlds 25 


Hinahan Cornwallis. 

1601 Adrift With a Vengeance*® 


Madame Cottin. 

1366 Elizabeth 25 

Georgiana M. Craik. 

450 Godfrey Helstone 25 

606 Mrs. Hollyer ...*26 

1681 A Daughter of the People 25 

Oswal d Crawfurd. 

1739 Sylvia Arden .*25 

R. K. Crisw'ell. 

1684 Grandfather Lickshingle*® 


S« R. Crockett. 

2095 The Stickit Minister. . ^5 

B. M. Croker. 

207 Pretty Miss Neville. ... 25 

260 Proper Pride 25 

412 Some One Else. 25 

1124 Diana Barring^ton........ 35 

1607 Two Masters 25 

May Crommelin. 

452 In the West Countrie. . . .*25 
619 Joy; or. The Light of 

Cold Home Ford c.*2S 

647 Goblin Gold 

1827 Midge ,...*25 

1899 Violet Vyvian, 


Books ^ are a* present in covers 


POCKET EDITION. 


II 


Stuart C. Cumberland. 


041 The Rabbi’s Spell ...... ..*25 

1984 


Maria S. Cummins. 

The Lamplighter 25 


1806 

1808 


;v 

A- . 0 » 


51 -: 


1368 

1629 

1666 

*670 


Mrs. Dale. 

Fair and False *25 

Behind the Silver Veil.. .*25 

K. U. Dana. Jr. 

Two Years Before the 
Mast 25 

Frank Danby. 

The Copper Crash *25 

Dr. Phillips 25 

Joyce Darrell. 

Winifred Power *25 

Alphonse Daudet. 

lack 25 

The Nabob: A Story of 
Parisian Life and Man- 
ners 25 

Lise Tavernier 25 

Tartarin of Tarascon .... 25 

Sidonie 25 

The Little Good-for-Noth- 

'ng 25 

bo 25 


M26 - Gloth- 

ing.. *25 

Danie> 

1312 Robinson Crusox. 

R. D’Ennery. 

242 The Two Orphans 2& 

Count De Gobineau. 

1606 Typhaines Abbey *25 

Hugh De Normand. 

1454 The Gypsy Queen *25 

Thomas De Quincey. 

1059 Confessions of an En- 

glish Opium-Eater 25 

J880 The Spanish Nun *25 

Earl of Desart. 

1301 The Little Chatelaine. . . .*25 
1817 Lord and Lady Piccadilly*25 

Elsa D’Esterre-Keeling. 
382 Three Sisters. 25 

Carl Detlef. 

1086 Nora *25 

1418 Irene 25 


Charles Dickens. 

1C The Old Curiosity Shop. 25 

22 David Copperfield 25 

24 Pickwick Papers ^ 

37 Nicholas Nickleby ^ 

41 Oliver Twist 25 

77 A Tale of Two Cities.... 

84 Hard Times 25 

91 Barnabv Rudge 25 

94 Little Dorrit 25 

106 Bleak House 25 

107 Dombey and Son 25 

108 The Cricket on the 

Hearth, and Doctor Mar- 
igold 25 

131 Our Mutual Friend 25 

132 M a s t e r Hum phrey ’s 

Clock.... 25 

152 The Uncommercial Trav- 
0 I 01* 

168 No Thoroughfare. By 

Dickens and Collins.... 25 

169 The Haunted Man 25 

437 Life and Adventures of 

Martin Chuzzlewit. ... 25 

439 Great Expectations 25 

440 Mrs. Lirriper’s Lodgings 25 

447 American Notes 25 

448 Pictures From Italy, and 

The Mud fog Papers. ... 25 
454 The Mystery of Edwin 

Drood *25 

456 Sketches by Boz. Illus- 
trative of Every-day 
Life and Every-day 

People 25 

676 A Child's History of Eng- 
land 26 

■'’be Boy at Mugby 25 

hesof Young Cou- 

25 

House 25 

iSbo ^ Carol 25 

1541 So.. s Luggage... 9S 

1608 Tales x.- Two Idle Ap- 
prentices. By Dickens 
and Collins 26 

Rt. Hon. Benjamin Disra= 
eli» Earl of Beacousfield. 

793 Vivian Grey 26 

Author of “ Dr. Edith Rome 
ney.” 

612 My Wife’s Niece *26 

Sarah Doodney* 

338 The Family Difficulty. ..*25 
679 Where Two Ways Meet. *25 

Richard Dowling. 

1829 Miracle Gold -*25 


JSooks marked thus * are at present in Alhnator cavern 






